


Beyond The Rim: Sheridan

by Jameson9101322



Series: Beyond the Rim [1]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Feelings, Gen, Old Friends, Spoilers, beyond the rim, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameson9101322/pseuds/Jameson9101322
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Intro to my Beyond the Rim AU. Starts where Sleeping in the Light leaves off.</p><p>After exhausting the life Lorien lent him on Babylon 5, Sheridan passes into the great beyond, but life beyond the rim is not quite what he expected. The odd mix of newness and familiarity is staggering and as old friends lead him on a tour of the afterlife, Sheridan discovers paradise is not endless bliss, but a second chance to make the most of what life gave you in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Transition

White light flooded the cockpit of John Sheridan's ship, blinding his eyes and piercing very other part of him. His body burned away. Sheridan braced for the pain but found it strangely soothing, like honey dissolving into hot tea. A voice flooded his mind. 

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” He hadn't realized before that moment what speaking “felt” like. There was voice but no lips, or tongue, or vocal chords. He gasped, but his lungs were gone and no diaphragm flexed. 

“Don't be afraid.” The light surrounded him and encased him, providing a sense of mass where there was none. "I've got you."

The brightness consumed everything. Sheridan flew through blank white nothingness, without reference to distance or time. Thoughts of the life he left -- the alliance, the rangers, Babylon 5, friends and family, David and Delenn -- sifted out the back of his head along with any regret or sadness at his own passing. The memories returned slowly. His wife's face came first; not wrinkled and mourning but bright and happy like she was when they were together. His son was a young man, but he could see him as both an adult and a child. Sheridan saw the people and places he loved as a celebration, and when he heard the voice again, he knew exactly who it was. 

“Open your eyes.”

Lorien stood before him, dressed in a billowing robe. He had the same long face and fatherly smile Sheridan remembered, but now glowed with youth and life despite being the oldest creature in the universe. Sheridan was standing on legs as real as the ones he used to have, dressed in an Army of Light uniform that was no longer too tight.

“Lorien...” Sheridan's throat tightened – because he had a throat again. “Sorry.”

“It's just fine, John. It's a pleasure to see you face-to-face again.”

“Where are we?”

“A transition,” Lorien said. “You might call it 'limbo'.” 

“I'm not dead?”

“No, you're quite dead.” Lorien chuckled. “This just isn't your final destination.”

“What am I doing here?”

“I thought it would be nice to talk a little. How are you feeling?”

“Confused.” Sheridan pressed his lips. “Upset. Upset I'm not more upset.”

“You're in a little shock.”

“I've been dreading today for the last twenty years.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. I was going to welcome you home.”

“Home?” Sheridan's temper flared. “Home was back there!”

“Hush, hush now, John.” Lorien folded his long hand over Sheridan's shoulder. “Walk with me.”

They strolled together through the whiteness. Sheridan's feet pulled ground, but without a signpost it brought a stark lack of progress. the strategy worked, however, and Sheridan begrudgingly calmed down. Lorien's hand tightened. “Tell me about your twenty years.”

“They were good, for the most part. Of course there was plenty of interstellar drama. My home world was nearly killed by a plague, two of my good friends strangled each other to death, a place I loved more than anything is probably blown to pieces right now...” He took a deep breath. “But my world wasn't destroyed, we won the Drakh war, and I loved the people around me more than the places. I had Delenn and I had David.”

“Your son?”

“Yes, my son.”

“He's a good man. He's due for great things.”

“How do you know that?”

“The Universe knows it, and it tells me.”

“It tells you?” 

“It's a living thing as well, you know,” Lorien said. “The Universe exists out of time. It didn't start and it doesn't end. It is life itself. We are it's children, made of the exact same life. All working together.”

“Star stuff,” Sheridan cracked a smile. “Of course.”

“Do you understand?”

“Not really, but I'm willing to learn.”

“Are you ready to see more?”

“Show me whatever you've got.”

Lorien clapped his back and steered him to the right. In a flash he was stepping through space onto a cobblestone road. Sheridan squinted into intense sunlight, grateful for the warmth and a touch of the familiar. When his eyes adjusted he was in a wide courtyard surrounded by tall buildings of all styles and racial origins. There were people, too. Hundreds of humans and aliens mingled together in the streets and in the open market and outdoor restaurants visible on the plaza's edge. 

Sheridan stood with Lorien in the center. Behind them stood a glowing portal guarded by two angelic beings. Sheridan gasped. “Vorlons?”

“Yes.”

“We're beyond the rim.”

“That's right.” 

“You mean...” He turned slowly. “It's a city?”

“It's everything,” Lorien replied. “A little bit of all races and cultures from all stages of life. This is my city. My home.”

“Your people?” 

“Yes indeed.” Lorien sighed. “Now, it may surprise you to learn that I a very busy man around here, so I am afraid I'll have to leave you.” 

“You're ditching me?”

“For a short while, but don't worry – I invited an old friend to show you around.” 

Lorien waved toward a cafe just off the plaza, catching the eye of a minbari man dressed as an anla'shok. Sheridan studied his face as he approached, but it wasn't until they were feet apart that recognition finally dawned. “Sinclair?”

“I'm known as Valen now.” The man smiled, revealing shallow wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. “But you have my permission to call me Jeff, President John Sheridan.”

“I can't believe this!” Sheridan grasped his hand in a firm shake. “You went back in time!”

“And lived my whole life there.” Valen turned to Lorien. “Sueash wanted to speak with you.”

“I know, I am on my way.” Lorien nodded. “Take care of our friend.”

“You know it.”

Lorien gave Sheridan's shoulder a farewell pat, stepped up a ramp through the open doorway and vanished in it's pool of light. 

Valen folded his arms within his sleeves.“A little much to take in, isn't it?”

“I...uh...”

“It's alright to be overwhelmed. So was I at the start of this, and I didn't have someone to meet me at the gate.” He nodded to the town. “Follow me, I'll give you the walking tour.”


	2. The Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valen takes Sheridan to see things both new and very familiar.

Valen and Sheridan walked the perimeter of the plaza, past a french patisserie, a minbari tea shop, a narn food cart selling breen, and more stores and restaurants from races Sheridan couldn't remotely recognize. There were creatures in all manner of dress and anatomy, and it seemed like everyone knew his guide.

“I still can't believe this is a city,” Sheridan said. “So everyone who dies comes here?”

“Not everyone,” Valen answered. “Usually when someone dies they are faced with a choice, be reborn into the living world or abandon their flesh for the next. Many Minbari choose the former, as part of their tradition. Others don't.”

“I see you didn't.”

“Yes, but I was raised by Jesuits.” Valen smirked. “I hope you don't take this the wrong way, John, but I'm glad the old Babylon 5 crew has started to pass on. My time as commander was something of a defining moment in my life. I still feel connected to that era, even though to me it was a very very long time ago.” He gestured as an aside. “Not that I was wishing you all dead or anything.”

Sheridan smirked back. “Of course not.”

“I've lived so long among the Minbari... both on this side and the other, trusting very few with knowledge of my human half. Most still don't believe me, even after I stopped shaving my eyebrows.”

“THAT'S what it is!” Sheridan snapped his fingers. “It was nagging me.” 

“I also kept my chest hair but I'll spare you the proof. Let's just say my physician was convinced.” He chuckled a bit. "How has Delenn coped with the transformation? She told me some of it last we met, but it was mostly to console me on my own change. Has she adapted?" 

“Well considering we had a son - ” A knot tightened in Sheridan's throat. “Let's just say her physician believes her, too." 

"That's right, Lorien told me you were married." 

"He knew?" 

"He keeps an eye on you living folks." Valen winked. "I was here when he finally crossed the barrier with the other old races. A lot changed back then. The universe grew this whole city for him and many of us with interracial ties opted to move in, my wife and I included." 

"Is your wife here with you?”

“Yes, we live in the Minbari neighborhood on the west side along with two of our children and their families. The rest of the kids are still outside the city. There's a section of the realm resembling Minbar where we lived before Lorien's appearance, it's where most my people feel at peace.” 

“But not you?”

“I'd rather be useful to Lorien. Plus, I'm a polarizing figure among the minbari. So many worship me like a god – something I've never really acclimated to. G'Kar knows how it is. We've got a bit of a club going.”

“G'Kar?” Sheridan nearly gasped. “He lives here?”

“Indeed he does,” Valen smiled. “Let's see if we can find him.”

They continued along the many boulevards, past blue crystal columns and porcelain archways. They were apparently still in a touristy section considering how many restaurants and gift shops they passed. An earther vender sat near his front door beside a rotating rack of post cards. Sheridan stopped and examined one that read “Beautiful Lorien City.”

“Lorien City?” He showed it to Valen. “Put his name right on it, then?”

“It's his,” Valen shrugged. “Why not?”

Sheridan turned the card over. “Do you use money here?”

“We get an allowance.” Valen pulled a coin from within his robes and handed it to the vendor. “Thanks Carl.”

“Good seein' ya, Val.”

“I like humans, they're very accepting.” Valen pulled three more cards off the rack. “See, this is the new Minbar region. You'll recognize the spires. And this is the new Narn – see how green it is? And this is the new Earth section. Notice the Mars bit in the back. It's relatively new. Colonists who died in the war for independence felt very strongly about living in a Martian environment, so the place kinda knit together in anticipation.”

“It grew out of nothing?”

“You'll find this world is very plastic,” Valen said. “Everything around you is constructed of light. It looks like matter to us, because we are light also, and it's as solid as you perceive it, but it's light just the same. If the Universe wants to expand to fit its lifeforms, it does so. There's no chemical matter added or subtracted to make such a thing impossible.”

“So... like the Vorlons, then?” Sheridan said. “They're made of light.”

“And still are, if you notice.” Valen pointed to an angelic being hovering on the street corner. “They look the way they want to, and they've always been dramatic.” 

“Why's he just floating there?”

“He's basically a policeman,” Valen answered. “They're public servants, tending the young races in penance for what they've done to us. The creatures you know as the Shadows are the same. You won't find any here, though... the two sides don't like to occupy the same place if they can help it.”

“Well there's a relief.”

Sheridan tucked his souvenir post cards in his back pocket and followed Valen down another bend. A crowd was gathered in a corner pub, overflowing the sidewalks. The place was quasi-post-modern. It reminded him of the Zocalo back on Bablyon 5. Even in daytime the neon signs were lit.

“What's all that?”

“That's what we're looking for,” Valen answered. “And if the audience is any indication, the man we want is probably inside.”

The crowd consisted of all races, even some minbari, with an emphasis on narns and centauri. Sheridan heard raised voices from the main dining area and followed Valen closely as the two waded inside. He recognized G'Kar's confident tones immediately. He was angry, ranting about something having to do with planetary treaties. An equally familiar voice answered back, dripping with acid. Sheridan shoved past his guide in a rush and found Centauri Emperor Londo Mollari, young and well as Sheridan's fondest memory of him, shouting at G'Kar across a low stage in a corner of the room. 

“It is idiocy if you think such an arrangement is possible! The great Centauri Republic will not stand for this – we've grown and thrived for centuries on strong society and robust civic pride. We would never sign such a document, not without defeat!”

“You are a race of children refusing to share your toys!” G'Kar rebounded brow furrowed over red eyes. “If the narn and centauri were to co-exist, certain resources would surely fall into neutral boundaries.”

“Preposterous!”

“Stubborn stupidity!”

“Hurling insults only proves your argument's weakness,” Londo snarled. “The only possible solution is a hard border between races.”

“With laws to govern interaction.”

“No. Two worlds – one planet. Complete separation divided by distant and most likely continental seclusion.”

“Continental – ” G'Kar stopped short. “What about deep sea fishing rights?”

“Deep – ” The Emperor interrupted himself with a snort and shifted away, covering his mouth to hide a smile. “I... ah...” He crossed his arms in an effort to recompose himself. “I don't know, G'Kar. What about deep sea fishing rights?”

“Emperor Mollari, the spoo alone would – ”

“Ahem,” Valen stopped next to Sheridan, waving a hand above his head. “Gentleman?”

G'Kar spotted him and his own facade dropped. He smiled wide and bowed to the crowd. “I'm sorry folks, it appears we are needed elsewhere.” The crowd groaned. G'Kar turned to his sparring partner with a frill of his long coat. “Do we call this one a draw?”

“No, no, you can have it. You broke me with that fishing turn.” 

“You hear that? One for me!”

Half the room cheered. A human in an old fashioned waist coat and pantaloons knicked a new tickmark in the left-hand column of a crowded tally board near the bar. Valen elbowed Sheridan as the audience dispersed. “We'll meet them outside.”

“Sinclair!” G'Kar called out when they reached the open street. He took Valen by the hand. “A pleasure to see you, I hope you were betting on me.”

“Ah, but the minbari frown upon gambling institutions.”

“I hope that doesn't mean you were betting on Mollari!”

“Commander!” The centauri swaggered over, dressed in a green-velvet overcoat reminiscent of those he wore while ambassador. “This is certainly a surprise.”

“The real surprise is mine,” Valen drew Sheridan to the forefront. “We have a new neighbor.”

G'Kar's face lit like a light bulb. “John Sheridan!” He grabbed Sheridan's hand. “Amazing! I can't believe it! Has it really been that long?”

“Five years.”

“Indeed, I suppose you're right.”

“And of course you remember Londo.” Valen directed Sheridan's attention to the man frozen beside them. He did remember Londo and the final words they shared. Guilt dropped like a stone to the pit of Sheridan's stomach. In half a decade, he never forgot the sight of the keeper rooted into Londo's shoulder, or Londo's speech so transparently hate-filled as he sentenced Sheridan and Delenn to death. The anger was an act, but the truth rang in Sheridan's ears even then. So much sadness and sacrifice the Emperor suffered for them, and they hadn't called or visited in nearly fifteen years. 

The look on Londo's face was uncharacteristically vulnerable, it seemed the first time, in spite of all they'd previously endured, he was at a loss for words. 

“I, uh...” Sheridan cleared his throat and bent an awkward bow. “Your grace.”

The bewilderment snapped quickly to displeasure and just as quickly to resolve. Londo returned a more graceful bow. “Captain.”

He smiled. “Ambassador.”

“Sheridan!” Londo took his hands in the centauri fashion with a genuine smile. “What a day! Of course, that is, I'm sorry for your loss.”

“I'm reeling a bit, that's for sure.”

“Why didn't you tell us, Commander?” Londo thumped Valen in the shoulder. “What friends do you think we are? We would have met him at the gate!”

“No reception for this one, I'm afraid. Lorien saw to it, himself.” Valen replied. “If it were protocol, of course, you two would be the first to know.”

“I should hope so,” G'Kar said. “How long have you been among us?”

It was a difficult question to answer. Sheridan knew they'd walked a while but it felt like only minutes. “I don't know. Maybe an hour?”

“Great Maker, this will not do!” Londo said. “No proper greeting for the president of the known universe? I am personally offended.” An idea sparked behind his eyes, he turned to Sheridan with an earnest snap. “I know! I'll throw you a party!”

“Really, that's not necessary – ”

“No, it is decided!” Londo said. “My place. Sundown. I'll take care of invitations, drinks, dinner, everything. A celebration fit for a funeral!”

Sheridan chuckled. “Okay, if you really want to.”

“I insist!” Another idea struck and Londo took a step back. “I should probably tell Adira we're coming. Sundown. I'm serious. Make sure he gets there!”

Valen smiled. “Yes, Londo, I will.”

“Good. Very good.” He bowed his last. “Until tonight.” and hurried up the road. 

G'Kar thumbed after him with a shrug. “I'm with him.” His voice lowered to a soft, sentimental tone. “It is a joy to see you again, John. It very truly is.” 

Sheridan watched the two vanish together up a side street warmth swelling in his chest. Friends – two men lost too soon wearing faces he knew from memory – found him in the midst of strangeness and filled wounds left for two decades. He was once again on Babylon 5. He'd finally found a bit of home. 

Valen put a hand on his shoulder. “Some things never change.”

“Yeah.” His voice caught in his throat. “Thankfully."


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can always go back.

“Your party isn't until sundown, so we have some time to spare.” Valen walked Sheridan along a sunlit canal. “I bet you'd like to see some family.”

“Family?” The word seized Sheridan's tongue. Keeping up with the new locations and old faces was consuming enough, his mind hadn't expanded to include the fact he was among the DEAD. “You mean MY family?”

"Your mother and father live in the Earth region far to the north. I can take you if you want – ”

“Yes!” Sheridan stumbled, surprised by how childlike he sounded. “I mean, how far north? Is there time?”

“Oh, it's not the travel that will take the time.” 

Valen led them back onto a main street full of milling aliens. Two Abbai hopped past them and into the canal behind. The water splashed sloshed on to the pavement, the waves glittered like diamonds. Sheridan couldn't believe the world was a construct - every sight and sound was so familiar. How could light possibly substitute water and stone and air? How did light-based bodies eat? Why did he breathe? Sheridan cleared his throat to ask his companion, but was interrupted by Valen as they stopped.

"Excuse me!" 

A vorlon hovered near a street sign at the corner of two cross streets. The letters were foreign, but Sheridan understood the meaning regardless. “Canal Street.” The Vorlon had a similar undefined nature. On Babylon 5 Kosh revealed himself in the form of an angel, then later as a tentacled light entity. This one met the two forms in the middle with a more compact shape and vaguely-defined non-sapient limbs. 

Just like the written language, Sheridan recognized the individual. And although it had no face it still turned to look at them. "Valen."

“Hello Honkarsh,” Valen addressed the vorlon. “How are you today?”

The creature's voice resonated in air. “Present.”

“This is John Sheridan, president of the galaxy.”

Honkarsh dipped it's shape in a slow, subtle greeting. 

Sheridan returned an uncertain wave. “Hi.”

“We would like to travel to the Earth Realm if you don't mind?”

“Contact?”

“Bonrash, or whoever is on duty near the Illini Plains.” 

Honkarsh bowed again and reached toward them with his snaking appendages. 

Sheridan drew back on reflex, but Valen fixed a strong hand on his upper arm, rooting them both in place as the tentacles touched and passed into their foreheads. Sheridan's eyes saw only white as warmth like a bonfire rippled down his spine. It expanded in his chest, filling him like a furnace until the light faded and his eyes returned to proper focus. 

He was on a cement sidewalk beneath a flourishing oak tree. Gentle breeze stirred the crown of green as birds chirped flitted in and out of the branches. He could smell wood smoke and the hint of something sweet cooking upwind. 

Valen released his arm and bowed to the Vorlon again. “Thank you, Bonrash.”

The Vorlon hovering before them was visually identical, but perceptively different from the Vorlon they left. It bowed a fraction deeper and reverberated a half note higher. “Entil'Za.” 

Sheridan gaped at the town bustling around them. Mostly human, the population wore clothes from every historical era. Horses and carts passed motor vehicles on the sun-bleached asphalt. A slick black twenty-first century touring car came slowly up the road. It braked at the corner and bearded man wearing a long coat climbed from the driver's side door. “Look who's here!”

“Abraham.” Valen nodded to him. “Visiting home?”

“I've taken up residence. East Coast life wears on you. Time to re-examine my roots.”

“This region is popular for politicians becoming farmers,” Valen said. “This is David Sheridan's boy.”

“I see. A new arrival.” The man extended a long hand. “John, wasn't it? I've met your father recently. A good man.”

“Thanks.” Sheridan shook with a strange sense of familiarity. “I didn't catch your name.”

“Hah! Fancy that.” The man scratched his beard. “You can call me Abe if I can call you John.”

“Abe it is, then.”

“I assume you're off to the Sheridan place,” Abe addressed Valen. “I can give you a lift if you'd like.”

“If you're already going that way.”

“Please, Val, I have a horseless carriage and all the time in the universe.”

They piled into the lanky gentleman's back seat. The place was full of newspapers and documents, some old as museum relics. Valen and Abe made small talk about political goings-on: who died recently, what the old ones were up to, what dead royal is fighting with other dead royals. Sheridan couldn't trace the names and places, and was too overwhelmed to try. He leaned on the door like he did when he was little, watching trees and pastures pass along the country road. It reminded him of mid-America. Crops grew in neat lines, tended by homely farmers. Salt of the earth people. If it wasn't for the age of the car and the bone crest on his companion's head, he would swear that he was back on Earth and that the events of the last twenty-four hours were just another dream. 

The car pulled up a long drive and parked outside a farmhouse. Sheridan blinked through disbelief, it was a perfect replica of the house his father kept before the war. He sprang from the vehicle. “This burned down!” Sheridan appealed to Valen over the top of the car. “Over a decade ago.” 

“That it did. Now it's here.” Valen tapped the roof above the driver. “Thanks for the lift, Abraham. Will I see you at the Washington summit next month?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Valen nodded again. “Take care.”

The car pulled away. Sheridan turned in time to catch the driver's familiar silhouette in the tinted window. “Hold it... That was Abraham Lincoln.”

“Driving a Lincoln Continental.” Valen smiled. “Welcome to the afterlife, John. Try to keep up.”

The shade trees thrived like it was the heart of a midwest summer. A corn field in full fall harvest stretched beyond them on the left. To the right he saw orange trees stretching to the distance. It defied logic, but felt as familiar as the the hollow thunk his foot made on the porch stair and the creak of the old swing as it stirred in the breeze. He studied the plants hanging in macrame nets near the front door as Valen knocked. A thirty-five year-old woman with sandy blonde hair answered with a gasp. “John!?”

“Mom!?” 

She pulled him into the house with a hug that would crimp steel. 

Valen ducked in behind them, his hands folded in his sleeves. “Hello again, Miranda.”

Miranda Sheridan blubbered too loud to coherently speak. David Sheridan came in, holding a mug of coffee that dropped at the sight. "John!" 

“Dad!” 

David joined the huddle, equally emotional in his own right. John inhaled the citrus perfume of his mother and earthen musk of his father, their scents like the sweetest incense of the Minbari temples. Peace and serenity beyond human understanding melted his heart and he fell to his knees, pouring tears into his mother's shoulder.

Valen triangled his hands with a bow. “I'll leave you three to catch up. If you wish, I'll retrieve you in time for the party.”

Sheridan peeked up over his father's shoulder. “Thank you for this, Jeff.”

“You're very welcome.” He nodded. “Enjoy every moment, they will last forever.”


	4. We are the sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John settles himself back at home for some much needed stability.

Sheridan sat at his childhood dining room table in his parents' retirement house drinking coffee that couldn't have tasted better if he crushed the beans himself. “So you went back to farming?”

“I like farming,” David said. 

Miranda put a plate of sandwiches on the table. “He's still just as bad at it.” 

“Explain to me what you do it for,” Sheridan said. “I mean, we are dead, right?”

David rolled his eyes. “Yes, John, for the eighth time.” 

“And everything here is made of light and can spring into existence with a wave of your hand.”

“It's more complicated than that.”

“So what do you do with the crops, do you sell them?”

“I sell them in town. Sometimes I take them to the city and supply a shop over there.”

“You mean Lorien City.”

“No I mean Chicago,” David said. “There's a version of it a few hours north of here. They have a farmer's market.” 

“So you die, and in your eternal rest you work in a field and sell your stuff at a market like you were still alive?”

“It's what I like to do!” David said. “Damn, John, you're as bad as your mother! Lots of people farm around here. We buy from each other, trade tips, get drinks. It's a good life. It's what I want.” 

“So what do you do with the money?” Sheridan asked. “If you can get rich does that mean you can get poor? Are there homeless people in the afterlife?”

“No, everyone is provided for,” Miranda said. “It's not riches the way you think it is. People find themselves where they want to be. You'll learn how it goes when you live here. We do work because we enjoy it.”

“You enjoy farming too, Mom?”

Miranda wrinkled her nose. “I didn't say I did the work!”

“Your mother has her own hobbies,” David said. “What are you on now, Miranda?”

“Centauri harp playing,” Miranda said. “Their harps are very different. Two of the strings are purposefully looser to make them twang. Sometimes you strum it like a guitar. How they get it to stop sounding like a banjo, I'm not sure, but I'll learn it if it kills me again.” 

Sheridan shook his head. “You're unbelievable.” 

“Its okay to take time to adjust to this, John.” David bit into a sandwich and continued with his mouth full. “It's the same as the living world, but really different, too. It took a while for me, but it's worth the initial struggle. The best thing by far was getting my health back. When you're sick as long as I was, just feeling good is like paradise. I'm grateful for it.”

“How old would you guess you are, now?”

“Hundred and... thirty? I lose count.” 

“I mean like, physically?”

“Maybe forty-ish?” David shrugged. “It varies by the day sometimes.”

“So it's not set?”

“It's how you feel.”

“That's weird,” Sheridan said. “It's weird seeing you two younger than me.”

“You should get a look at yourself, son.” Miranda handed him a silver dish to check his reflection. “Like the day you took that post on Babylon 5.”

He thumbed his hairless chin. “I don't remember picking a face.”

“You don't have to, it's automatic.”

“That doesn't seem fair.”

“Are you unhappy with it?” His mother's eyes expected a response, the same way they did when he was in grade school long ago. 

He handed the tray back. “I'm happy enough, I guess.”

“Then why complain?”

“I'm just trying to understand.”

“Don't think about it so hard,” David said. “Accept the fact that nobody does anything against their will. Some like to farm so they farm. Some like to write so they write. Some make art and music so they do that all day long, and they share that stuff with the rest of us. People look the way that's right and they do the thing they were made for and we all enjoy it together.”

“What about the ones that like to fight?” Sheridan pressed his lips. “What about the ones that like to disagree and like to seize power.”

“Then they don't stay here for long,” David said. “There are two worlds, son. The physical and the spiritual. You can die in both, but if you die here, it's your soul that dies. People who want to fight and kill each other can go somewhere and do so, but if they succeed they get recycled and live a new life as someone different.”

“Hold on. You can die in death?”

“Our bodies are still bodies,” David said. “We don't grow old, we don't wear out, but we can get hurt and we can be killed if someone really wants to. It takes work, though. You have to really put the effort in if you want to kill a soul.”

“Oh well good,” Sheridan said with a sardonic lilt. “I guess that adds a challenge.”

Someone knocked at the front door. Miranda rose with a puff of her blonde hair. “I bet that's someone who likes delivering mail for a living. Let me go and check.”

Sheridan folded his hands in front of his mouth. “So there's still war and there's still murder.”

“There's still the element of free will,” David said. “People change when they come through the light. We get taken apart and reassembled. People who had mental illnesses, physical scars, chemical imbalances – their rebuilt bodies come back flawless and they live their lives in peace, but some people have hate inside them born from more than bodily problems. Those people have all of eternity to work through their issues. If they can't, they don't stay long – either they reincarnate or go away.”

“What you're describing is terrifying,” Sheridan said. “I thought this place was perfect.”

'It's paradise, son. Perfection's what you make of it.”

“Hey what do you know, the mail.” Miranda slapped a stack of letters on the table. 

A gold-edged envelope glinted at the top. Sheridan recognized the Mollari seal pressed in violet wax on the lip. “Is that one for me?”

“No it's for us. Who would know to mail you here?” Miranda snapped the seal and unfolded the card. “It's an invitation to a party; Lorien City tonight at sundown.” She checked the window. “Well, they didn't give us much of a warning.” 

“Its from a friend of mine,” Sheridan said. “I met him in town. You two should come!”

“We've got maybe an hour or so, we can get dressed and there by then,” David said. “Miranda, do you want to?”

“Meet John's important friends? Why not?” Miranda said. “We'll take a cab there.”

Sheridan smiled over his coffee. “Jeff said he'd come get me.”

“Perfect! You fella's eat your sandwiches,” Miranda said. “I'll run upstairs to fix my hair.”

David grunted. “Your hair looks perfectly fine.”

Sheridan took a sandwich off the pile. PB and J, like he was twelve. The taste was transcendent. 

“So we have to eat here?” He swallowed his bite. “Do we get hungry?”

“Yeah we still have to take in fuel. Need to sleep, too,” David said. “Afternoon naps feel like magic.”

“I'm actually glad to hear it.” Sheridan glanced out the window over the bending cornfields. The sun dipped behind high clouds, enriching the blue of a flawless sky. “So what's the sun?”

“Hm?”

“What star are we circling?”

David turned thoughtful and watched with him out the window. “It's the universe.”

“What?” 

“We aren't on a planet, we aren't really a place – we're encompassing everything that's ever been,” he said. “We are the universe and that, there, is everybody else.” 

Sheridan squinted between his fingers, brightness stinging his new eyes. Lighted arms spiraled around the outer edge of the glowing ball. Starlight, faint as pinpricks, dappled the sky beyond the blueness. It was a star chart, like those in his office on Minbar, shining in the light of full day. “So why does it set?”

“Because the universe wants it to.” David sighed. “I think it likes the colors.”

“Tada!” Miranda returned in a blue gown with her hair held up in pins. “How do I look? Too much?”

“For a Centauri party? Not at all.” Sheridan rose and kissed her forehead. “Sorry I've been such a grump.”

“Change does that, you're forgiven.” 

“This is all really nice. Really,” Sheridan said. “You've made it a lot easier.”

The front door knocked again. 

“That's probably our ride!” Miranda said. “David go upstairs and change!”

“I'm going, I'm going.” David clomped away as Miranda ran to get the door. 

Sheridan turned back to the window, watching birds flock overhead. Were they Earth birds or special Rim birds? Perhaps it didn't matter. If the universe wanted birds for them it made them birds to watch, just like it made the sun rise, just like it picked his face. The universe knew exactly what they needed because the universe was star stuff. They were all made of star stuff. His heart swelled and broke at the same time. 

“John?” 

Miranda's voice was wary. He turned and saw her wringing wrinkles in her satin dress. “There's someone here for you.”

“It's not Jeff?”

“No.” She forced a smile and called over her shoulder. “Okay, hon, come in.”

A woman's shadow cast into the dining room as high-heels crossed the floor. She stopped in the door way, like a vision. A living photo from his past. 

“Hello John.” 

Anna's smile was warm and genuine. Her eyes bright with life were and her honey brown hair lay loose on her shoulders. Playful sarcasm turned her lip and stirred the chords of his lighted heart. 

"Well?" She laughed. “Is this how the president greets his lost wife?”


	5. Funeral for a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly reunited Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan return to Lorien City where a party is waiting.

The last time Sheridan saw Anna, she was chasing him down a corridor on Za'ha'dum with an army of Shadows close behind. She was a large part of the reason he was beyond the rim to begin with, instead of back home on Minbar with his living wife and their now-fatherless son. 

No, that wasn't fair. The Anna that died with the Shadows was different than the one before him. This one had her personality restored, and her soul in the fullest version of itself. Anna clung to his arm as they walked through the sunset streets of Lorien City. She noted his silence. “What's wrong, John?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it about Jeff? I'm sure he'll understand when you parents explain I came to get you.”

“No, it's not that,” Sheridan cleared his throat. “I'm still reeling a bit. I didn't expect to see you.”

“Well, I am your wife.”

“I – I know.” He wet his lips. “What do you... remember? About before?”

“Before?”

“Before...” he gestured to the orangey sky. “This.”

“The Icarus.” Her tone steeled. “The Shadows. Being taken against my will.”

“That's all?”

An elevated walkway cast a dark shroud across her face. “Do you have any idea what it's like to have your thoughts manipulated? To be changed?”

His lips pressed tight.

“I know you're probably worried, but I can't be anyone but me here. I'm not brainwashed.”

“I want to believe you.... I still have a lot to learn about the rim and all, but in the short time I've been here, it seems like the after-life is not all that different from the before-life.” Sheridan eased them to a stop. “You died, Anna, and when you came back you were different. I'm just trying to get my bearings, here.”

“I know you are, I'm sorry,” Anna sighed. “I shouldn't have expected you to jump back into my arms, but I thought you'd be happier to see me. All those things you mentioned... I had to work through them on my own. I missed you. I wish you'd been here to help me.”

An odd guilt overtook him. He cleared his throat. “Can I help you now?”

Her face warmed a bit, but a tear stood in her eye. “I'm fine, John, but thank you. I'm glad we're together.”

They continued walking through Lorien City, past wandering sapients and floating Vorlons. Cast shadows lengthened over the pavement. Anna led them according to the map on her gold-edged invitation. Sheridan was surprised Londo sent her one, but considering his parents were included, perhaps the emperor was hitting every Sheridan in the astral phone book. 

It was dark by the time they crossed the channel into a Centauri-inspired neighborhood. The ball of light that was the universe was tucked somewhere beneath the horizon, replaced by a stripe of sparkling starlight. Pale tones gleamed against architecture hearkening back to earth's ancient Egypt and Rome. The sounds of the party reached them in music and laughter as they rounded the final corner. Before them stood a mansion straight off Centauri Prime. The building towered three stories up with carved plaster walls and garlands of glowing flowers beneath the windows. Every light was on, framing silhouettes holding drinks as cheer and chatter flowed into the street. Anna squeezed Sheridan's arm. “This must be the place!”

“Must be.”

“Cheer up.” She nudged him. “It's your welcome home party.”

“Home...” The memory of Delenn streaked with pain through his chest. “Not quite.”

Anna knocked and the door burst open immediately. An alien woman shouted, “He's here!” And a cheer rose from the tightly packed crowd of earthers and aliens waiting within. 

Sheridan was drawn inside by a dozen handshakes. He recognized school teachers, army buddies, and passed relatives younger and brighter than they were in his memory. Waves of emotion overtook him as voices rattled his memory. He didn't have time to stay and chat. The march of welcome kept moving until he was at the mouth of a grand hallway and face to face with his host. 

“President Sherdian!” Londo stood a step above him, wearing blue and gold with his black crest high and gold chalice in hand. “Welcome to your funeral!”

The crowd around them cheered and laughed. David and Miranda Sheridan were waiting, their youthful faces glowing with pride. Sheridan blushed and muttered “thank you”s into the clatter of celebration. G'Kar stepped from the throng and passed Sheridan a drink. 

“Entil'Zah," Londo's booming voice quieted the room. "President of the Alliance, Leader of a victorious rebellion, commanding officer of Babylon 5. Some called him a traitor. Others, the Starkiller. And while I know our history together was tumultuous at best, I have always considered you a good and dear friend. Your accomplishments in a tragically shortened life rival those of the oldest races, and many here may thank you for their freedom, their voice, and their very lives. It is my esteemed honor to welcome you to you lasting reward.” He raised his glass. “To the man who changed the galaxy.”

“The man who changed the galaxy!” The crowd echoed. 

Sheridan raised his glass with the rest. The wine tasted sweeter and stronger than any he could remember. Cheers and applause filled the house from polished floor to buttressed ceiling. Anna's eyes sparkled as she tightened the hand around his arm. It reminded him of their wedding day, when they pledged themselves to each other and dreamed of such a future.

“There you are, John, your death is official,” G'Kar clapped him hard on the back. “An event worthy of a president, although my speech would have been better.”

“Catpain.” Londo descended the stair and clinked Sheridan's glass. “Fashionably late? You were starting to worry me.”

“It was my fault.” Anna tipped her head in a bow. “Forgive us, your grace.”

Londo's face scrunched. “No titles, please, good lady. Although I would very much like to hear yours.”

“Sorry! This is Anna,” Sheridan's throat tightened. “My wife.”

“Wife?” G'Kar and Londo exchanged a brief glance. 

The Narn cleared his throat. “Oh yes, of course! I remember you had a previous marriage, I just didn't realize she had already joined us.”

“Yes, I died at Z'ha'dum.” Anna's voice had a bite. “Does that bother you?”

“Ah, uh, no!” G'Kar said, although the name struck an apparent chord. “No, never!”

“Of course not!” Londo joined G'Kar's backpedal. “Who are we to judge anyone on the circumstances of their death? This world is nothing if not a clean slate, no? Which reminds me.” He gestured and a brunette Centauri woman emerged from the crowd. She wore a backless satin gown with a silver choker and diadem. A fan-shaped ruby brooch was pinned between her hearts.

“Captain, allow me to introduce MY wife.” Londo took the woman's arm. “Lady Adira Tyree Mollari.”

She swept he skirts in a bow. “Mr. President.”

“What was that you said about titles?” Sheridan smiled at Londo and took Adira's hand. “Call me John, please.”

“John, then.” Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled. “I've heard so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Sheridan raised an eyebrow at Londo. “This isn't one of the wives I met on Babylon 5.”

“Thank the Maker." 

“I'm afraid I was already gone from Babylon 5 when you took command,” Adira said. “That didn't stop news of the brash Earther captain from reaching Davo. You are quite famous, sir.”

“He IS the man who changed the galaxy.” Anna tightened her grip on Sheridan's arm. 

G'Kar and Londo exchanged another glance over her head. Londo coughed and released Adira's hand. “Lady Sheridan, would you allow me to introduce you to my dear friend Emperor Turhan and his wives? They are personal guests of mine and delightful company.” 

“Another emperor?” Anna raised her eyebrows at Sheridan. “What do you say?”

“He'll be along in a minute.” G'Kar gripped Sheridan by the shoulders. "You three go ahead." 

Anna allowed herself to be drawn away. “Okay, but don't be long!” 

Sheridan exhaled a breath he didn't realized he'd been holding. G'Kar waited for Londo's voice to mingle with the crowd and pulled Sheridan in to whisper. “Are you all right? You're pale enough to be your corpse.”

"It's..." Sheridan gulped. “It's a lot.”

"Are you not pleased to see her?"

"Is it bad that I'm not sure?"

"Only if it's upsetting your night." G'Kar gestured to the host of friends and family around them. "This is yours and no one else's. Let it nourish you in food, wine, and love. For we are here -- and YOU are here -- and there SO MANY more of us you have yet to re-meet."


	6. Honestly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues with old faces and new troubles.

The mansion was like Londo's apartment on Babylon 5 swollen to fifty-times its original size. Everything was marble or gold or upholstered, with paintings and mirrors occupying every inch of wall space. It was decadent to excess, but nothing Sheridan saw was richer than the wealth of loved ones and memories packed around him. 

G'Kar whisked him room to room, making sure he shared an appropriate amount of time with each of the guests like a celebrity handler at a red-carpet walk. Sheridan experienced it all in a blur of faces – all younger or older than he remembered – and memories retold to him as if they were yesterday. Every now and then he spotted Anna through the mingling crowd. She was searching for him, but Londo had her on a similar leash, and the moment Sheridan noticed them, G'Kar steered him to another conversation.

Sheridan did his best to be polite with everyone, but what he really needed was a moment to think about his feelings for Anna, and the conflict of past love and present awkwardness that braided through his stomach. 

Thoughts clouded Sheridan's mind as he addressed the recently deceased ISA brakiri representative. Sheridan fished his memory for the man's name as the man waxed philosophic about the land of the dead. G'Kar slid between them. “That's all very interesting. I'm afraid you'll have to excuse us.”

“Oh! Of course!” The brakiri said, flustered. "Farewell, Mr. President."

“Thanks for coming,” Sheridan said over his shoulder, then whispered to his guide. “Thank you so much.”

“What are friends for?” G'Kar stopped Sheridan near a set of rangers. “Hello, gentlemen. May we join?”

“Well, well.” Marcus Cole grasped Sheridan's hand with a winning smile. “It appears the entil'zha has come to inspect his troops!”

“Marcus!” Sheridan beamed. “It's you!”

“And no other!”

“I admit I'm a little sorry to see you here,” Sheridan said. “We've still got your body on ice at home.”

“Oh yeah? Did it keep well?”

“Not well enough, apparently.”

“Its just as well,” Marcus said. “Meet my brother, William.”

A taller man joined them, the family resemblance strong from his mane of dark hair to wide infectious smile. “Allo, Ranger 1. Thanks for the shindig!”

“Don't thank me, I'm just a guest!” Sheridan's spirit rose in their combined charisma. “It's great to meet you and to see your brother again. We fought a war together.”

“I've heard all about it,” William said. “And about your White Stars. Always had a thing for ships. Wish I could have seen one in action.”

“Knowing the world we're in now, you can probably wish for one and it'll appear.”

“Hah! If only.”

“Captain,” Marcus interrupted. “How is Delenn? Is she all right?”

Sheridan's smile faded. “She's well, Marcus. Thank you.”

“And Susan....” His head bowed. “She's well too?”

“She's had a hard fifteen years, but she's strong. She made general.”

“General! Good for her.” Marcus thumbed his beard. “Married?”

“Ah, no. I'm afraid she's... given up on love at this point.” Sheridan tugged half a smile. “She hasn't forgotten you.”

“I'd lie if I said I wasn't happy, but that news also leaves me a bit sad.”

Sheridan nodded. “Me too.”

“Well, we can't have that,” G'Kar interrupted. “This is a Centauri funeral! Dying's the best thing to happen to them.”

“Well, I'm sorry to spoil the mood, then,” Marcus sassed.

Sheridan leaped to intervene. “He didn't mean it like that! It's supposed to be a time for reflection, no matter the emotion.”

“No worries, John, we've got eternity to relive and remember, am I right?” Marcus shoved him. “Go greet your guests. We'll get lunch or something.”

“Sure! I mean yes!” Sherdian called has he was drawn off again. “Look me up!”

G'Kar wove to a far corner and parked Sheridan in a window seat next to a line of minbari. Valen was sat on a couch directly across. “Oh! John! There you are.”

“Jeff.” Sheridan glanced to those around him. “Or I guess Valen?”

“Jeff is still fine. Everyone here knows. These this is my son, my daughter, and her husband. Mirenn at the end there is my granddaughter. She just joined us from the Minbari region.” 

She triangled her hands with a bow Sheridan returned. 

Valen patted the woman beside him. “And this is my wife, Sakai.” 

Sheridan's heart stopped. The woman's head of jet black hair was woven in a braid through a thick Minbari bone. She reached to shake Sheridan's hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain.”

“President,” Valen corrected. 

Sakai rolled her narrow eyes. “President.”

“You – ” Sheridan reached toward her and nearly lost his balance on the window seat. “You look like Delenn.”

“Your wife's our great great great...” She frowned to her husband, “great? Grandaughter?” Valen shrugged. 

"But..." Sheridan stammered. "Your hair!"

"Oh yeah, that too." Sakai puffed a loose strand. “I hope Delenn realizes how lucky she is that she didn't have to shave it off. Unlike her, I actually had to pass as a minbari.”

“I can see you're confused,” Valen said. “Sakai is really Catherine Sakai. She used the triluminary when she joined me in the past.”

“But – how?” Sheridan asked. “I've never heard of anyone switching races before Delenn. I thought only people in your family line could use – ”

“Sakai IS in my family line. She helped make my family line.”

“But the DNA transfer... Delenn said it was a closed loop.”

Valen grinned. “If Delenn could solve every mystery of the universe, she'd be bored out of her mind.”

G'Kar chuckled. “And how are you, Sinclair? I'm sorry if our party spoiled any plans you had.”

“We're fine. Although it's a bit crowded in here for me. I've already had two or three followers appear and bow out of nowhere. You know how it is.”

“Thankfully around here, not as much.”

“I guess that's true.” Valen rose. “Before you two shuffle off, I'd like a minute with John, if I may?”

“Be my guest,” G'Kar winked at Mirenn who blushed. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Watch it.” Valen snorted. “I know where you sleep.”

Valen beckoned Sheridan away from the window and up the hallway to an ornate garden door. A veranda stretched beyond the glass. Small groups of guests shared private moments in the starlight. Anna was there, chatting with a pair of Drazi dignitaries. Valen turned him from the view. “Your parents told me about Anna.”

“She picked me up at their house.”

“They said you were surprised to see her.”

Sheridan bowed his head, mouth dry. “I'm still trying to sort it all out.”

“You can talk to me if it will help,” Valen assured. "Being confused is normal for someone so new to this. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Hmph." Sheridan glanced over his shoulder. “I'll figure it out later.”

“John,” Valen placed a hand on his shoulder. “I advise you not to prolong this issue. It's obvious she wants to reestablish your relationship, and you clearly have some reservations. You will have to decide what you intend to do about it.”

“I know.” Sheridan's voice was harsher than he intended. “Jeff, seriously. This morning I knew myself and where I stood. Then I died and everything I thought was real changed in an instant. Everyone else is acting like it's normal. They keep telling me all these new rules, but assuring me it's just the same. I haven't seen G'Kar and Londo for years but they talk to me like we never left Babylon 5, and Anna... Anna's confusing in a whole different kind of way.”

Valen's brows rose. “Because you love her?”

“I remember loving her,” Sheridan grunted. “She was the light of my life and I was wrecked when she died. It took years for me to even think about loving again. And then I did. And it was Delenn. Did that make her second best? If I'd met Delenn first would I have loved Anna? If I met Anna second would I have left Delenn? I feel loyalty to Delenn but is that because I love her more or because I loved her more recently? I don't know – I can't know! I feel like a game the women in my life are taking turns at.”

“Stop trying to play fair, Mr. President,” Valen said. “This isn't the political sphere, these are your feelings and your life. The chance we get beyond the rim is an opportunity to take the wisdom we earned on the living side – the perspective we received from mortal brevity – and apply it in a lasting way so that we can be the best versions of ourselves.”

“That's some nice philosophy. I fail to see how it helps me.”

“If you want me to tell you which love to choose I cannot. I don't have a wholly unbiased opinion, and I don't want to sway the call of your heart. You are your truest person, John. If the answer isn't clear to you yet, it will be when you stop trying to be what other people want from you.”

“I'm not trying to! I feel the same as I did in the living world – overwhelmed and confused.”

“Take a deep breath and follow me,” Valen said. “I have a promise to keep. Perhaps it'll help re-frame your dilemma.”

They walked from the hall to an empty corner of party. Standing by the wall was another Minbari with his hands folded and his eyes cast down. Valen didn't have to introduce them, bSheridan recognized the other man already. Lennier was dressed in traveler's robes with his head bone overgrown and his face weathered with hollow cheeks and deep, recessed eyes. If the figure before him was the shape of Lennier's truest self, he was a sincerely burdened man. 

“He didn't want to come today, but I convinced him to give it a chance,” Valen said. “He's very ashamed.”

Sheridan scoffed. “I can't imagine why.”

“He's been working with me and Lorien since his passing. He's done a lot of good in the world. He's a genuine person.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sheridan balled his fists. He couldn't forget that day on the ship to Minbar when Lennier left him to die in a moment of jealous weakness. There was no denying it was a wicked act, but there was no denying the actions he took afterward, either. He fought to prove himself the Ranger he started as, and the anger Sheridan kept was personal more than righteous. If Valen wanted him to be honest with himself, that harsh fact was truth, but it made him feel gross. Like a child throwing a tantrum for attention, the grudge took effort. Sheridan raised his voice. “Mr. Lennier.”

Lennier jumped and bowed. “Welcome, President Sheridan.”

“Hmph,” Sherdian exhaled with a sigh. “I'm surprised to see you here.”

Lennier kept his eyes squarely on the floor. “Yes.”

“I can tell it was hard for you.”

“Harder still to ask your pardon, sir.”

“Formally, perhaps,” Sheridan said. “I won't waste words. We've never had a close relationship, Lennier. We were always at odds over Delenn, even before it got dramatic. I held you at arm's length for a long time.”

“As you should have.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” Sheridan set his jaw. “I always thought heaven meant endless bliss, but the afterlife is really about wisdom and letting go. From what I've learned today, this world is a place of new starts. I think the two of us can start again, as well, if we work at it.”

“I am willing to work.”

“I know you are...” He sighed again. “Please stop bowing, Lennier. I don't want to lord over you.”

The minbari straightened, his hands triangled and lips pressed tight. 

“If we are going to work together we need to start on the same page,” Sheridan said. “We both love Delenn. Perhaps we can build the bridge on her memory.”

Lennier's mouth relaxed. Color returned to his cheeks. “She'll be pleased to see us try.”

“Yes she will.”

“John?” Anna wandered in from the hallway holding a glass of champagne. “There you are. I've been looking all over for you.”

“Sorry,” Sheridan glanced to Valen and Lennier. “I've been making the rounds.”

“Of course, I mean these are your guests.” She extended her hand to the men. “Are you two friends from Minbar? It's hard for me to imagine John living there, I'm sure he stuck out like a sore thumb.”

Lennier cleared his throat, but Valen spoke first. “You would be surprised.”

“Thanks, Jeff.” Sheridan said, pointed. “Excuse us, gentlemen.”

“Be mindful, John.”

Sheridan frowned and escorted Anna back to the veranda.

“I'm so impressed,” she said, lightly. “You have some VERY important friends. Emperor Mollari introduced me to a god – like an actual centauri god. Can you imagine that? What would you do if they called you a god?”

“With all this fanfare, I feel like they did.”

“You're better than a god.” She leaned her head on his arm. “You're the man who changed the galaxy.”

They stepped from the house into the cool night air. Inky sky stretched overhead. Particle clouds like diamond dust glittered in the blackness. It reminded Sheridan of seeing the milky way from them the porch of his father's farm way back on earth. The two stopped at the marble rail and stared out over a tree-lined river walk. Lorien City unfolded in lights and colors beyond the greenery, filled with music and laughter from a dozen different parties in a dozen different cultures. 

“It's amazing,” Anna whispered with a hint of sadness. “All these people you've met and helped.... they adore you here. You lived so much life without me.”

“Life takes strange turns, I guess.”

“I can't help thinking what life would have been like if I hadn't taken that post on the Icarus. I could be the first lady of the galaxy, rubbing elbows with all these important people every day of my life.”

“You wouldn't be... though.” Sheridan's throat tightened. He pulled his arm free and leaned on the rail. “I didn't do it alone, Anna. I had Delenn.” 

She shrank at the name and set her champagne on the rail to hug her arms about her chest. 

“You were aware I remarried,” he said. “I have another wife.”

“I know.” 

“What do you think about that?”

“I'm... happy for you.” She forced an unconvincing smile. “She helped you in the Shadow War, and the Earth Civil War, and the Interstellar Alliance – ” 

“So you knew this whole time.”

“I wasn't trying to play dumb, I was... hoping?” She let her arms go limp. “I was waiting so long for you and she was so much...more... than I was. I didn't think I could compete.”

“It's not a competition,” he turned to face her. “I never asked Delenn to be another you, I don't want you to be another Delenn. It's just life. Life happens.”

“But I wasn't there for it.” Anna's eyes welled. “And I love you.”

“I know.” He took her hands and searched his fluttering heart for an answer Valen promised he'd find there. It was muddled and conflicted, but breaking at the look on Anna's face. He rubbed his thumbs across her fingers and felt her tense hands relax. “I won't ask you to compete with Delenn if you stop asking me to forget her.”

She sniffed and nodded.

He waited for her to look up. “I really am happy to see you.”

“Really?” 

“Let's get to know each other again,” Sheridan said. “Both of us have changed.”

“It's true.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

“Yeah.” Her tone lightened. “I guess I was scared I didn't belong in your life anymore, but that wasn't fair to you. You're still the man I married, even with all these important friends and amazing accomplishments. You've still got your heart. I should have trusted you.”

"Thank you." The knot in his stomach untwisted, allowing the hint of normalcy he'd wanted all night. "I'll do my best to do the same.”


	7. A long day/ The long night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party winds down, but revelations continue. As always, truth lies somewhere below perception's surface.

Anna stayed on Sheridan's arm for the rest of the night. He introduced her to his friends, and she handled herself with grace and poise. It reminded him of when they first knew each other – he the academy cadet and she his younger sister's precocious friend. She had always been older in soul than she looked in body, although that was true for just about everyone beyond the rim. 

The party wore on for hours as servers wound through the crowds with trays upon trays of hors d'oeuvres. The food was excellent. The alcohol was plentiful and while relaxing and illuminating, it didn't seem to inebriate at all. That didn't stop a some guests from passing out in the corners – perhaps wanting to get drunk was enough to make it happen. Guests began to disperse, some by the door, but others by Vorlon who floated around the party as either guests or servants. One hovered in the main living area near a gold-filigree and marble fireplace. 

This figure was more than a cloud of shapeless light. Its body rose in t wo parts like wings with a human-looking head perched on shining shoulders. Sheridan recognized the face. It was the one he met as he jumped from a tram car in hydroponics in his first escape from death. 

“Kosh?”

The Vorlon bent a glowing arm and bowed slowly. Although his face was human-like, it blurred in Sheridan's vision, reminding him that although familiar it was still an illusion. Kosh's voice rippled ghost-like through his mind. “Yes...”

The single word felt as familiar in Sheridan's brain as it sounded in his ears. Anna's eyes widened in awe and a twinge of fear. Sheridan covered her hand where it gripped his arm. “Anna, this is Kosh. He helped me – ” the word felt insufficient. The light shining from Kosh's illuminated body warmed his skin and heart. “He was my guide back on Babylon 5.”

Kosh's head bent to one side in consideration and apparent agreement. 

“And this is Anna,” Sheridan said. “She is my wife.”

The head straightened with a pause. Kosh bent a slow and deliberate nod. “...yes.”

“It's very nice to meet your.... guide...” Anna's grip tightened as she whispered. “Can we go?”

“But....” Sheridan's heart tugged him toward the Vorlon, but Anna's face insisted. He realized the choice before him paralleled his decision to go to Z'ha'dum and steps leading up to Kosh's sacrifice. He patted Anna's hand. “Just give me a moment.” 

She nodded and backed away. Anxiety like a dark cloud left with her presence. Sheridan cleared his throat. “Listen... Kosh, I've got a lot to thank you for, and a lot to apologize for...”

“No...” Kosh's human-like face steeled a little, exuding emotion stronger than portrayed on his features. “Apologies ring silent in the dome of time.”

“I see you haven't changed much,” Sheridan pressed his lips and started again. “I'll do it anyway, though. I'm sorry for anything I misunderstood back then. Thank you for staying with me, even when you said you couldn't.”

He glowed with approval again. “Wise, Captain.”

“I still have a lot of questions – about the past, about this place – I know we're both residents of this world now but you must know more about how it works. I wish I could learn from you, but Anna's waiting. She's been waiting for me a long time.”

“Time is an illusion.”

“Well, it feels pretty real to me.” Sheridan turned. “I'll keep my questions for now. I'm sure we'll find each other again.”

“Wait.” Light grew from Kosh's torso, taking the shape of an outstretched arm and human hand. “Two worlds. Physical. Spiritual. Souls wander between... but die once in each.”

This wasn't news. Valen told him something similar in the first moments he arrived, but hearing it from Kosh added gravity. There was something about it the Vorlon wanted him to understand. “If souls are immortal and time is an illustion, you can't mean from age. You must be talking about violence. My father told me some people still wage war.”

“Violence. Surrender.” Kosh paused. “Corruption.”

“Corruption?”

Kosh's hand vanished back into his glowing body, leaving silence as an explanation.

“John,” Anna called feebly. He turned to see her fidgeting with sweat forming on her brow. “Can you come here, please?”

“Right there.” Sheridan bowed his head. “I'll think about what you said.”

The Vorlon bowed back with a simple, breathy, “yes.”

Removing himself from Kosh's presence left a hollow space in Sheridan's chest that old fears and questions rushed to fill. Anna took his arm when he approached, affixing almost mechanically, like two train cars coupling back together. “What did he say to you?”

Her conspiratorial tone irked him. “He reminded me that souls die.”

“What an awful thing to say at a party.”

“Do you know how it happens?”

Anna gnawed her lip, hand shaking on his bicep. “We can kill each other, but it's deliberate and tortuous. You don't kill the other person's body, you kill their spirit – their will to keep going.”

“You make them want to die?”

“That's what death of the spirit is.”

“What happens to people who die twice?”

“Your body and spirit can die, but life is unending. If you die in spirit, your life force goes back to the physical realm and you're born again with a new spirit.”

“So reincarnation.”

“Yes.”

“So all my friends on Minbar who believed their souls were recycled... they weren't wrong.”

“They can choose that when they die if they really want. I have friends who crossed over for a while and decided they'd rather start fresh. Not everyone can live with the memories of their life, and not everyone crosses over into a spiritual existence. Those friends you knew may not join us here. That's the risk we run.”

He gulped. “You mean there's a chance Delenn won't – ” 

Anna's nails dug in his arm. She sifted breath through her teeth, deep bags appearing under her eyes. “I'm tired, John. I know it's your party, but do you think we can go soon? I think I need rest.”

“Oh, sure...” The ache in his chest grew stronger. He wanted to stay with his friends, but recent knowledge, constant re-introductions, and the look on Anna's face swayed him her direction. He could hear Londo laughing somewhere in the next room over. “Let me thank the hosts.”

“I'll meet you at the door.”

Sheridan wove easily through the dispersing crowd, weariness doubling and tripling with each forced smile. He reminded himself for the hundredth time that that morning he was alive. The clock on the wall had too many numerals to tell an accurate time, but morning felt both ten minutes and ten years ago. 

He found Londo, Adira, and G'Kar surrounded by other guests. Marcus was with them, telling a story about adventures with the Rangers if his pantomimed denn'bok moves were any indication. Those around him laughed, relieving some of Sheridan's heavy-heartedness. G'Kar spotted him over the group and waved. “Come, John, join us!”

“I can't,” Sheridan said, but allowed G'Kar to draw him into the cluster with a hearty clap on the back. “Anna says she's tired. I'm going to take her home.”

“A shame, but I suppose it's been a long day,” Londo said with a shake of his crested head. “And apologies for losing track of her in there. We did our best, but duty calls and all. When someone needs something they always find the host.”

“It's alright. I think it was for the best.”

“You wife is a lovely person,” Adira said. “We chatted quite a bit, although I admit I still don't know much about her. You will have to bring her back sometime.”

“Yeah...” The weariness returned twofold. “I mean, we'll be glad to, if you'll have us.”

“There is no, 'if,'” Londo boomed. “Do not wait for an invitation – the door will always open for you. You are welcome any time.”

“In fact you'll beg to be rid of us!” G'Kar's hand moved from Sheridan's shoulder to lock him firmly in a one-armed hug. “Welcome home, President Sheridan.”

“Thank you both for arranging all this.” Sheridan smiled. “You've turned a day I was dreading into one of the happiest moments I can remember. I can't even tell you how grateful I am.”

“Then stop trying,” G'Kar squeezed him again and released his grip. “Go get some sleep. We'll visit again tomorrow. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He nodded. “Goodnight, all.”

Anna waited for him in the entryway. She hung her hand in the crook of his arm and led him from the warmth and bustle of the mansion back to the dark, starlit streets. “Thank you.”

“Kosh really upset you.”

“Vorlons do.” She trembled. “I wasn't really on the side of the Shadows back in the war, but... you know, let's get back to my place and we can talk, okay?”

“Okay.”

The two moved deeper into Lorien City, over the canals the bordered the Centauri neighborhood, beneath walkways, through tunnels. All manner of building material from wood and stone to twine and crystal shone beneath the brilliant night's sky. They emereged onto a wide plaza, Sheridan recognized from before. The portal he'd stepped through upon death glowed a brilliant blue in the center. People stepped from it two or three at a time, met by crowds cheering and welcoming the newly dead.

Sheridan paused. “Do they all come like that?”

“A lot,” Anna sounded disinterested. “There's portals like that in all the regions.”

“Can you walk back through?”

“Only if you like nothingness.”

They moved away from the noise of the revelers and deeper into the web of streets. Although it was night for all of the afterlife, that didn't mean the place was asleep. Bars, shops, and entertainment glowed with incandescent light. Music played. Nocturnal aliens filled restaurants too dark to see inside, laughing and speaking in languages Sheridan had never heard but could still magically understand.

Vorlons hovered on different corners, gleaming like lamp-posts. A faint tone passed between them, harmonizing into a song that hummed in the streets with a faint beauty that filled his chest before registering in his ears. He turned toward one, but Anna steered him away. 

“You said you don't like them, but aren't we going to ask them to transport us?”

“We don't need them to get where we're going.”

They passed a couple Minbari buildings resembling temples, and down an adjourning boulevard toward a section built to resemble Drazi architecture. The streets narrowed to lanes and eventually alleys too small to walk side by side. Anna took the lead, weaving in and out of jutting side-roads spotted with other foreign buildings until they cleared the claustrophobic neighborhood and entered a city park.

He recognized the trees growing from his visits to various worlds. A couple were very obviously Earther. Others appeared Minbari, although it was hard to tell in the dark. The two walked paths past fountains and into a heavily wooded space. Birds chirped low, hidden among the branches. 

“How much further is it?”

“A bit further. We're almost there.”

The exhaustion Sheridan felt at his party was worsening, as were his darkened thoughts. People could could choose to cross over or reincarnate upon death. It was possible -- probable -- Delenn would follow the faith and tradition of her people. Would anyone tell her he was waiting? Would she choose him if she knew? Part of him didn't want her to, she believed so strongly in her religion he'd never want her to compromise herself for his sake, but another part of him couldn't stand the thought of eternity without seeing her starlit eyes again. Why wasn't he given a choice when he crossed? Anna said something about people staying for a while and leaving... the train of thought stabbed like physical pain through his chest. Sheridan winced and tried to meditate in the steady crunch of his shoes. He was too confused and tired to decide anything so fast. He didn't know where he was going, but at least he had Anna to follow. 

There was no telling how long they hiked. The path below them dissolved to gravel, then to nothing as they descended into a valley where water flowed invisibly in the darkened underbrush. He couldn't hear the hum of the Vorlons, or the stir of city traffic. Everything stood motionless

It was too dark to see Anna stop until he had almost run into her. She whispered something into the blackness and seized Sheridan's hand. “Hold on to me. Close your eyes.”

As she said so, a burning cold spread from the center of his chest. The shock stole his breath. He clung tighter to Anna's hand as the cold filled his lungs and stomach, spreading with tingles down his veins into his limbs until every finger and toe stung. 

It felt like death – when he crossed into the white light of the beyond and his physical body burned away. ]The cold clouded Sheridan's mind and he lost sense of where he was until the chill subsided. When he opened his eyes he was on a quaint city street, lined with bars and restaurants with colorful apartment complexes built above them. Late night patrons – almost exclusively human – populated the venues below. 

“Do you recognize it?” Anna asked. 

“Sort of?” 

“It's Rome, Italy!” Anna grinned. “I've always wanted to live in Rome and here I can! Of course it's not the one on Earth, but it's similar to the letter, constructed from thousands of years of citizens growing and shaping it with their experiences.”

“It evolves?”

“Yes, to be the best version of itself. Funny how that works. Good people build good places, it's wonderful to see. And I can still tour it, looking at ruins rebuilt and functioning in the splendor of their heyday. It's like a dream.”

He couldn't help but smile. “You come alive in your element, you know.”

“I feel it.” She laughed self-consciously. “Come on, the apartment's over the pastry shop. It smells amazing.”

They entered a door between the bakery and coffee shop and climbed a flight of narrow stairs to the first first door on the left. It was a battered wooden thing painted green with a brass number 2 on it. Sheridan snorted. “You spend your eternity in a crappy apartment?”

“I like this apartment!”

“That figures.” 

“You haven't seen inside though, it's perfect inside.” She swept an arm in presentation. “You don't even have to lock it, it knows me as well as I know it. It'll let you in, too, if you give it a try.”

“It knows me?”

“I know you,” she blushed. “And it knows I want you there.”

Butterflies stirred Sheridan's stomach. He took hold of the handle. The door opened without resistance, swinging into a wide, open space – far larger than it appeared from the outside - and full of photos and dressings he recognized from their life together. He saw the vase her grandmother left her, the lamp they bought at a bargain shop when they set up their first apartment, photos of Anna and Elizabeth as children, and a portrait of himself in dress-whites the day he was commissioned. 

Anna slipped in behind him, grinning ear to ear. “Do you like it?”

“It's amazing.”

“Good.” She kissed his cheek. “Then it's home.”


	8. The Wound Beneath the Scab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new normal? No. An old one. That's what's wrong with it.

There was that word again; home. Lorien used it when they were wandering the white void between life and death. David and Miranda Sheridan said it when he was sitting in their dining room, and the guests and his funeral party said it hundreds of times. 

Welcome home, welcome home, welcome home... but he wasn't home. Nothing beyond the rim felt normal or comfortable. Everything was confusing. Even this.

“Do you remember when we took this one, John?” Anna lifted a framed photo off a polished lamp table. “We were on Mars.”

“Yeah, I remember.” The soul-deep tiredness was overwhelming and an exhaustive tour of the apartment wasn't helping. In addition to the open sitting room at the front, the space had a full kitchen, a dining room, a library, and a second floor with a multimedia/sitting room and a line of bedrooms up the hall. Every space they entered was full of old-world style and grace. It was Anna to a T, and massive compared to the exterior. “Is every apartment in this building like this?”

Anna laughed. “They're however their occupants want them to be.” 

“I'm really tired of that being the answer to everything.”

She shrugged. “That's just the way it is here. Everything's made of light, it's a perception of our sentient minds.”

“Well, my sentient mind wants something to be definitive for a change.” He peeked into one of the bedrooms where a king bed waited, surrounded by angular, modern furniture and industrial fixtures. “Why can't things be what they seem?”

“They are, though. You just have to get used to it.”

“I don't think that's going to happen.” 

“Give yourself some time.” She reached for decorative table reminiscent of art-deco style. “What about this book? You were reading it the last night we were home together. Did you ever finish it?”

“Yeah, decades ago.” Sheridan opened the door to the next bedroom but it only held a few random boxes. “You've got all this space you don't use. Why not use your soul powers to turn them into a rec room?”

“Maybe I don't want a rec room.” Anna's brow furrowed. “You can turn it into a rec room with your own desires if you want, assuming the universe thinks you deserve one because I'm starting to disagree.”

“Deserve?” Sheridan spun to face her. “Now that's new. You have to deserve it?”

“Stop twisting words, John.” Anna gestured to the wall. “What about this case over here with your Earth Force medals in it? I was so proud of you when you earned these – ”

“What? Why do you have those?” Sheridan snapped. “Why is so much of my this stuff actually mine? Did it appear here when I crossed over? Did the Universe put it here? Or is it here because you want it here?”

“It's here because I thought you'd like it!”

“You can't do that! You're destroying them.” 

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“You're robbing them of significance.” Sheridan wiped his hands down his face. “When Babylon 5 broke it's alliance with Earthdome, I sent all my decorations to my mother for safe-keeping. She kept them on her mantle for years. They were important to her. Something she'd want. Did you get this case from her place, or is there a copy of them in her magic-space-house right now, too?”

Her nose wrinkled. “If she wants them that bad, I guess there could be.”

“What's the point of them, then?” Sheridan cried. “Things in our lives are valuable because we MAKE them valuable! Those medals are important because I earned them. If you can dream them up out of nowhere, what's to stop Lorien or Sinclair or goddamned Kosh from imagining another set to keep as Sheridan souvenirs? There can be rooms and rooms of them! They lost meaning! There's no point if you can have anything you want all the time – the point is they're unique!”

“Medals are mass produced, John. Thousands of soldiers have them.”

“But mine are MINE!” He said. “They're on my dresser back home – not your home. Not Mom and Dad's home. MY home on Minbar with David and Delenn where all the stuff I owned had weight and value and still exists as physical, tactile, real objects filled with sentimental thought and meaning because I gave it to them by owning them. These are not those medals, Anna. These are fakes. They're imaginary.” 

“Calm down, John. Alright.” She grunted. “I'll get rid of them if you don't like them. You don't have to make a huge deal of it.”

“It's good to know they magic away as easily as they appear.” He crossed his arms. “I'm guessing there's no trash in the afterlife, either?”

“You're making a fuss over nothing.”

“Make them go away then, I want to watch.”

“It doesn't work like that.”

“Why not?” He hissed. “Why can't I have the things I want if it's as simple as wishing for it? If I decide I want George Washington's false teeth and wish for them with all my heart what's to stop them from appearing right here in my hand?”

“A lot of things. One of them being you don't actually want them.”

“I'll convince myself I want them.”

“Okay go ahead, do it.” She sneered. “Make George Washington's false teeth appear in your hand.”

“I don't know how to do that, I've only been dead eighteen hours!” 

“The time doesn't matter because you can't do it by yourself!” Anna said. “What you want to happen doesn't happen because you WILL it to happen like a fairy tale. It's a combination of your heart and your mind, and the universe, and a whole host of other things. Individual people can never understand it because the basic truth of the matter is that we're not individuals at all. We are all sentient cogs in this huge rotating machine that we call the universe. It's alive and we're its life, John. This world is its life, too. You can't force it to do anything for you, it's bigger than all that!”

“You just described a nightmare.” Sheridan's voice strained as he spoke. “That's a horror story. I AM an individual. I'm me. I've always been me.”

“And you've always been more as well,” Anna calmed herself. “Let's go to bed. It's late and you're way past exhausted. It'll feel better in the morning, I promise.”

Sheridan couldn't deny he was tired – it was a purer more complete tired than he'd ever been in his life – but the fear, doubt, and sheer frustration nagged him more than sleep. He didn't even know why he NEEDED to sleep. The universe never took a nap, and he wasn't done ranting. “All I'm asking for is answers.”

“And I'm doing my best.” She sighed, the same weariness he noted at the party circling her reddened eyes. “Just trust me.”

“It's hard.” 

Anna took a deep breath. “I guess I've expected too much of you, again. I've been looking forward to having you back.”

“I wish they gave you some warning for what the afterlife was like.” He leaned his back against the textured wallpaper. "You'd think with all the different spiritualists in the galaxy someone would have figured it out."

“If they had, everyone would live differently," Anna said. "Life is brief and limited for a reason. It's a trial by fire – it makes us who we are. What choices would you have made differently if you knew what was going to happen next? I know I had a lot of regrets at the end of my life, but death is a chance to take that knowledge and make up for every time we fell short.” She touched his shoulder. “I'm glad you had a big party to welcome you, and lots of friends and family to greet. You smiled so much, tonight. It suits you.”

Sheridan snorted. “It WAS nice.”

“I actually redecorated the house for you. When Ed told me your time was coming, I drew on every memory I could... pulled everything we shared out of my room. Scoured all the antique shops.” She blushed. “You were right. Those medals are fake. I found the ones I remembered in an Earthforce resale store and actually made a couple of the others with ribbon and coins based on pictures in the library.”

“You... what?”

“I just wanted you to be comfortable.” She wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing close, face to face. “I'm sorry it freaked you out.”

“It's okay. I needed to.” Sheridan returned the embrace. “I feel like we're apologizing to each other a lot today.”

“There's a lot of apologies to make up for, I guess.”

“For what it's worth, I'm sorry I killed you when I blew up Z'ha'dum and destroyed all your Shadow friends.”

“And I'm sorry I tried to hand you over to your mortal enemy while I was brainwashed.”

“Are we even?”

“Even.” She pressed her cheek to his chest with a sigh of relief. 

He closed his eyes and focused on her warmth and her scent. Memories of their happy life before the Shadows rekindled the pain of losing her on the Icarus. The weight of her body grounded him in a way he really needed. He matched her breath, and rested his cheek in her hair. “So who's Ed?”

“You met on Babylon 5.”

“I don't remember an Ed.”

“We're having a moment. Don't get jealous.” She held tight and raised her head. “Would you like a glass of wine?

“No thanks.”

“Then bed?” She squeezed his ribs. “Things really will feel better in the morning.”

“Mph,” he grumbled. “Answer one more question, first.”

“K.”

“Do souls dream?” He faltered and cleared the knot in his throat. “I mean, I don't know if I want to right now. I'm kind of scared of what I'll see after all this.”

“We dream.” Her face warmed in a tiny smile. “But tonight I promise there'll be good ones.” 

Anna took him by the hand and walked him up the bedroom hallway to a closed door at the end. A table with potted daffodils stood to the right below a framed mirror. Sheridan caught is reflection as Anna got the door. He was thirty again – brown hair, clean shaven – still wearing his army of light uniform. Although nothing on him showed dirt or scars, he could feel the weariness amplifying like sound in an echo chamber as he stared into his own eyes. An old man stared back. A saddened old man, wearing the face of someone who once felt much happier. 

“Here we are.” Anna's voice held a hint of expectation. Sheridan turned and found the bedroom littered with rose petals. White candles flickered on the dressers and along the walls.. Two white bath robes sat folded on bedside tables full of flowers. A white lace negligee lay expectantly across the foot of a royally decorated queen-sized bed. 

It felt like Sheridan's lungs collapsed. “What the – ”

“I thought that after all these years we could have a little party of our own.” Anna's cheeks warmed like the petals scattered around them. “It has been a long time.”

“No.” He backed away, heart pounding. “No, not... not tonight.”

Disappointment hollowed her eyes. “It's okay, we can just sleep. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to.”

Her hand slid up his uniform jacket, raising goosebumps along his spine. Sheridan shivered and stepped away. “I want another room.”

“What?”

“I want to sleep in my own room. Any room. Just... not this.” He grabbed the nearest doorknob.

Anna snapped her hand around his wrist. “John, no.”

“Let me go.”

“You can't – not that one!”

He shoved the door inward on the hinge. The bedroom inside was full of personal belongings he did not recognize. Photos, paintings, diplomas – names Sheridan didn't know on degrees neither he nor Anna earned. On top of the dresser was a photo of Anna standing with a gray-haired older man. Sheridan frowned. “Whose is all this?”

“It's Justin's.”

“Justin?”

“A friend. A mentor.” Her voice trembled. She hung her head. “The man you met on Z'ha'dum. He called you his... opposite number.”

Flashbacks hit Sheridan's mind like a volley of missiles. He saw the halls of the Shadows' palace, the men in that lounge room waiting to reprogram him into one of them. They were the spring in the trap, Anna was the bait, Justin was the rat catcher – the one the Shadows trusted to draw plans and coordinate attacks against Earth and the allied races. That person was in Anna's house, sleeping in the room next door. 

“Explain.” Sheridan's tone steeled. “You said that wasn't you back then. That it was another life.”

“It was.” Tears flowed freely from her eyes. “I wasn't behaving voluntarily. I was reprogrammed, we all were. Crossing over put our heads back on, but it didn't undo everything that was done to us. No one understood what it was like, all we had was each other... so we kept each other. We talked about it, we worked through it, and we lived not because we had to, but because we had a reason.” She seized his arm. “You were my reason. I held on for you to come back. The others had theirs, too, but Justin... he didn't have one except us.”

She paused for a stifled sob. The vice grip loosened on his elbow and she continued with a fraction more calm. “Remember what I told you before we left the party – that I knew someone who crossed over for a while and then went back? Justin went back. When I found out you were coming, I asked the rest to leave. All these bedrooms here are empty, because I wanted this house to be ours. They agreed and went to live in other homes with other friends and families – people they all reclaimed through years of work and healing – but Justin...he was the only one among us who volunteered to join the Shadows back then. He did it to find power and become important, but after it was all over, he couldn't face the gravity of what he'd done, so instead of living with it, he decided to pass away. He faced the Old Ones and asked the universe to help him move on, so one night they came and took him. And he was gone forever just like that, to be born again in a new body. He didn't take his memories with him... so he left them all right here. Where they'd always been. It's all the Justin that remains.”

Sheridan scanned the trappings of the small room. This man had a life before the Shadows – but couldn't return to it because of pain. Anna was quiet, but still crying. Her loss was definitely real. If he couldn't have stayed for her, perhaps he made the right choice. 

The front door slammed open in the great room downstairs. Anna jumped. A man's voice shouted from below. “Anna! Are you here?”

She tensed. “It's Ed!”

“The same Ed you mentioned before?”

“Anna!” The voice cracked as boot heels raced across the hardwood and pounded up the staircase two or three steps at a time. The man arrived at the end of the hallway like a vision from one of Sheridan's repressed nightmares. He was dressed head to toe in black with a slick quaff of dark hair. The horrifyingly familiar face furrowed in rage. 

Sheridan balled his fists. “Morden.”

The man grit his teeth. “So you're here.”

“Ed, don't.” Anna threw herself between them as a human shield. “He's my husband. We discussed it.”

“I changed my mind.” Morden's hand shook as he pointed and met Sheridan's eye. Despite the same look, he lacked the cool confidence Sheridan remembered from their brief encounters on B5 and subsequent trip to Z'ha'dum. He was slender and trembling, with as much fear on his face as anger. “You can't kick me out my own house, Mr. President. I don't care who you are or what you did for the universe. I don't deserve to get punished for the same thing forever. I'll fight for this. I won't let you ruin it again!”

“Ed, stop!”

“Enough!” Sheridan's mind raced, imagining places and events he'd rather not. The house became the dark palace on Z'ha'dum. The bedroom was the lounge where his attackers waited. Mantis creatures crawled through the shadows, ready to brainwash him or worse. He had to get out of there. The bomb was coming. The planet was in flames. 

Anna's hand touched his shoulder. “John?”

He slapped it free. “Get back!” 

Sheridan saw her face but didn't trust her. Morden's body blocked the stairs. Sheridan rushed, threw him aside, and dashed from the stairwell to the exit. The Italian streets were full of creatures – humans, aliens, and something else. Shapes moved in the corner of his vision. Monsters knit from inky dark. He put the milling crowd behind him took off the way they'd traveled, only to realize the shapes and buildings were nothing he could recall. 

How big was eternity? Was he still in Lorien City? He knew they walked through a park, but couldn't find a park. Could he get back to his folks? How far was the portal that brought him from Minbar and everything he'd known? How far away were the galaxies rotating in the sky? Perhaps this was a bad dream and he'd wake up back in his cockpit. Even if it was followed by pain, a moment of familiarity was worth another dying. He could breathe and fade to nothing as he watched B5 explode. 

“Sheridan.”

A familiar voice resonated in the walls of his own skull. Sheridan spun in a circle until he spotted a light shining at the end of a long street. He ran as fast as he could, the point of brilliance blinding compared to the dark pressing all around him. It waited silently, floating three feet from the stone pavement. Sheridan blinked away tears and caught his breath. “Kosh.”

“Wanderer.” The Vorlon bowed his human-like head. “Where do you wish to go?”

“Home.” Sheridan choked as he said it. “All I want is to go home.”


	9. Permissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to white.

There was a period of time on Babylon 5 when Sheridan's body housed a fragment of Kosh's soul. It was not enough of a soul to justify calling it possession - honestly, Sheridan didn't even realize it was there until it was gone - but it was enough to keep him safe when he needed protection. 

Kosh reached from within his robe-like body and placed a glowing hand on Sheridan's shoulder. A blast of nostalgia emanated from the touch, resonating in Sheridan's heart and mind like the tones of an old song. It filled him with warmth, raising goosebumps over every inch of skin. Tears rolled from Sheridan's closed eyes with a long, unhindered sigh. A moment later the two stood in a featureless white void.

“This place...” Sheridan said. “It's where I first met Lorien. Limbo. The transition between life and death.”

Kosh's voice whispered behind him. “Yes.”

The Vorlon was back in the encounter suit he wore on Babylon 5. The eyeless head and curtain-like cape disguised any hint of the creature living inside. It was the perfect vehicle for life among the mortals. Sheridan was oddly disappointed, but stirred with faint hope. “You can cross back into the land of the living?”

“I am of the old ones," Kosh said. "The universe's middle children. We stayed to care for the young, but failed in our duty. I can enter the in-between space, but cannot cross. Our time in the mortal world is over.”

“You're trapped?”

Kosh hummed a crackle through his speakers. The encounter suit vented steam as it's head shifted. “You wanted to return to Minbar. I cannot take you.”

“Would it be possible for someone else? Maybe someone like Lorien?”

Steam hissed again. “Yes.”

Sheridan shuddered. His throat cinched in a knot he couldn't clear. “So I can go back home?”

“Spirits, agents, those the universe has come to trust, venture back and forth beyond the rim almost every hour of every day. They can be seen or not seen, they go as the universe commands them, but they never belong. You will not belong there, if you were allowed. You will go and return, and if you refuse, you would become a wandering spirit – a demon, or a ghost.”

Nausea prickled Sheridan's stomach. 

“I can send you to any land you wish, but I cannot go with you, and the universe does not trust you to return.” Kosh hissed. “Where do you wish to go?”

Sheridan sniffed, his earlier sadness and exhaustion settling back over him like a shroud. “Minbar the PLACE isn't my home. Neither is Earth or Babylon 5. They felt like home when I was there, because that's where I felt safe and loved and familiar. Wandering them as a ghost wouldn't be the same.”

"So where?"

“I... I don't know.” 

"Ask your soul."

"My soul is all I have left." Sheridan's voice trembled. “I'm homesick, Kosh. You know how that feels. My chest aches. I want peace and people I trust and to stop being so scared of everything.”

"...yes." The suit shuddered and disengaged it's sealant locks. The helmet portion rose and the Vorlon, shining somehow brighter than the whiteness around them, rose on glimmering wings. The human-like head Sheridan was accustomed to by now was gone. Kosh was now a sentient star, hovering before him with intense beauty. The Vorlon's voice echoed through the white expanse. “Do you trust me, John Sheridan?”

His answer came without a second's thought. “Yes.”

A beam of light stretched forward and pierced Sheridan's heart. The point warmed, sending ripples of light and energy through his body and his limbs. Sheridan closed his eyes and focused on the sensation. His emotions melted away, leaving a pleasant and unburdened numbness. The moment's respite was fleeting. In seconds, the warmth was gone and the world through his eyelids dimmed and went dark. Voices echoed in the distance. A bird chirped, but it's call was not one Sheridan remembered. Kosh was gone. Sheridan stood alone on a city street, surrounded by potted greenery and extravagant homes. Dawn light spread with a hint of pink along the horizon. The universe rotated at its edge, surrounded by stardust. 

He was still beyond the rim -- it was almost a relief -- although where or in what land or city he wasn't sure. The buildings were vaguely familiar and almost Mediterranean in design. Part of him recognized it. Was he in Anna's magical Italy? Sheridan turned in place, scanning for Vorlons or sign posts to get his bearings, and found himself staring at Londo Mollari's front door.


	10. Drinks at Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheridan stands at Londo's house, an unlikely place to find peace.

Sheridan never dropped in on Londo unannounced when the two of them were on B5. As president, their relationship was almost purely political with years when the two didn't speak to each other at all. Londo called them friends earlier, but Sheridan wasn't sure how much of that was platitude. Welcome party or not, the fact remained that Londo died as part of an effort to save Sheridan's life, while their two nations warred in the skies overhead.

But he'd asked for peace and safety, this was where Kosh put him. Sheridan straightened his jacket and knocked on the door. 

No response. The windows on every floor of the mansion were dark except for the faint glow of lighted starlaces blooming in the boxes. Londo and his wives and servants must have actually gone to sleep when the party ended. Sheridan considered leaving them alone, when a light appeared in the living room. The front door opened to reveal Londo in slippers and a satin bathrobe. “Captain? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, uh, Londo.” Sheridan cleared his throat, cheeks flushed. “Sorry bother to you so late at night.”

The Centauri glanced to the changing sky and dismissed it with a wave. “Nonsense. Didn't I tell you my door was always open? Come in. This hour is for nocturnals and madmen.”

“Thanks.”

Londo waved a hand over the light switch and ushered Sheridan to a seat in the posh living room. The place was surprisingly clean for how many people were recently in it. If not for the overabundance of mismatched chairs, it would be hard to believe a party happened at all. Sheridan lowered to the seat of a mauve-colored armchair and leaned forward on his knees and stared at his twitching hands.

Londo approached the collection of bottles crowded onto a rolling cart. “Can I get you something?”

“Uh... no, no thanks.”

“You sure? You certainly look like you need one.” He splashed two glasses with brivari and brought one to his guest. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“It's fine.”

"It's clearly not."

“Londo?” Bare feet padded up the tiled hall beyond the living room. Adira appeared on the step where Londo made his earlier toast. She wore a blue scarf around her shaven head and a matching silk housecoat pulled tight around her shoulders. She spotted Sheridan, looking worried. “Is anything wrong?”

“No, my dear, do not worry.” Londo left his glass and met her beneath the marble archway. “Go back to bed. The captain and I are having a chat.”

She glanced between the men. Sheridan must have looked miserable because her concern only deepened. “Can I help somehow?”

“No, Dira, it's fine.”

“Perhaps fix some tea?”

Both Centauri paused to eye Sheridan over their shoulders. His face flushed. Ice shifted in the glass between his shaking hands. 

Londo whinged in a whisper. “Tea might be good.”

“I will be right back.” Adira bit her lip and continued past the arch, her footfalls receding up the hall. 

Shame knotted Sheridan's guts. “I really didn't mean to come cause trouble.”

“For the last time, it is fine.” Londo mirrored Sheridan's hunched position in a matching velvet chair. “As long as you tell me what has bothered you. Last I saw you were headed home with your wife.”

“Yeah, and that worked out perfect.”

“So I hear by your tone.”

“I just...” Sheridan wiped condensation from the surface of his glass. “I'm lost and I'm tired. I honestly don't even know why I'm at your house right now... I've been running all over the afterlife learning this and seeing that. I can't focus and I can't rest, and I needed somewhere apart from all of it. Seriously, Londo, thank you for that party earlier. I was the highlight of my death. The rest of it has been a nightmare at the worst of times and unsettling at the best.”

“Crossing over is difficult. It's an experience we all share.”

“Kosh said some people leave. Some don't cross at all.”

“I've heard of those who chose that course.”

“Were you ever tempted to recycle yourself?" Sheridan gulped. "Let go of all those bad memories and live your life over again?”

“Absolutely not.” The certainty in Londo's voice settled Sheridan's nerves. The Centauri jabbed a finger his direction. “I fought too long and too hard to forfeit the man I am today. I was given a second chance I did not deserve and I'm not so stupid as to dismiss it in a show of shallow self-pity. Besides without the lessons of my life, who's to say I wouldn't commit the same sins all over again? No, I'll do the universe a favor and stay exactly where I am.” 

The irony in his voice was like meeting the ambassador at a Zocalo bar, but the gratitude was his emperor persona to its wizened core. Londo punctuated the statement with a brief smile that made Sheridan finally sure he was being genuine. “So tell me, Londo;" Sheridan said with more humor. "How long did it take for you to get used to all this? Were you as upset and at a loss back then as I am right now?”

“Well, bear in mind, my death was a bit different. I did not cross alone, I had G'Kar. There was still plenty of uncertainty, but after everything that happened in the previous twenty years the comfort of companionship was its own reward. Besides, when I descended the gateway and found Adira waiting for me as well... ” He grinned at the memory. “I could want for nothing else.”

“She beat you here?”

'Yes by some time, but let's not discuss the details.” Londo finished his drink and rose to pour himself another. "We were talking about your wife, not mine."

"Yeah... Anna," Sheridan breathed fog onto his glass. “I know what she wants from me, but somehow I can't give it.”

“Do you still love her?”

“Yes? At least I vowed to.”

“Marriage has nothing to do with love.” Londo returned with a full glass. “I asked if you loved her, is that so hard to answer?”

“It shouldn't be, should it? I did love her once, I wouldn't have married her if I didn't, but Delenn...” Her name halted like a curse word on his lips. Sheridan braced for a flinching reaction from Londo, but realized quickly it was Anna's lingering influence, instead. Londo's brow knit as the pause lengthened. Sheridan squared his shoulders and set the dripping glass aside. “I died young, relatively. It might be thirty years before Delenn gets here, and even then she might not come. I miss her, but I can't live for decades with this hollow feeling in my chest. I'm lonely, and Anna... well she's already here.”

Londo swirled the spirits in his glass. "If you came here for advice I beg you consider who you're talking to. The Centauri conduct themselves a bit differently, so I have to ask... why not have both?” 

“W-What?"

"I said 'why not have both,' is it so hard to understand?"

"No!" Sheridan squawked. "I couldn't do that!”

“Why not?”

"Because I - I can't." Sheridan's mouth went dry. “Two wives at once? I couldn't! I can't do that to Delenn.”

"To Delenn is it?" A sly smile crossed Londo's face. “So I see.”

Sheridan's heart pounded. His truth had been there the whole time, like Valen said that it was, but somehow it took his own voice to clear out the fog. He ran a hand down his face. 

Adira reappeared with a tea tray loaded down with polished mugs and dishware. “I apologize for the wait. I did not know what tastes Earthers preferred, or if they took spice in tea like Centauri do, but then I remembered you lived on Minbar so I gave up and brought everything I had.” She set the tray on a low coffee table and knelt beside. “May I serve you, Mr. President?”

Sheridan took deep breath and met the Centauri's eye. “Please just call me John.”

She relaxed and relaxed against Londo's chair. "What would you prefer, John? Earther or Minbari? I have other kinds as well...”

“Thanks for being so thorough, but I'm not all that picky. I'll take it Centauri-style, with gratitude to my hosts.”

“Spoken like a true diplomat.” Londo sipped on his spirits and dumped what was left in his fresh mug of tea. “If you ask me, I think what will do you better than a warm beverage is a decent night's sleep. The troubles of this or any world feel more manageable with a little rest.”

“So I've heard from a couple sources.”

Adira's face brightened. “Then you must stay with us tonight!"

“Oh, no, I couldn't...” Sheridan accepted a cup. The extra spice burned like slap to the face. 

“You must, John. I insist. This is your first night beyond the rim!” Adira turned her husband. “You agree with me, of course. We can't send him back to the streets. I won't let you do it.”

“You accuse me so quickly!” Londo scoffed, but his tone was already butter in the beam of her eyes. “The captain is welcome, but he still has to agree.”

They eyed him, expectantly. Sheridan grinned. There was no real chance to escape, but in that honest moment he didn't really want to. “If you're sure it no trouble.”

“No, not one bit.” Londo stood and drew Adira up with him from the floor. “Thank you very much, my dove. Now go back to bed, I'll manage from here.”

“Will you put him in the red room?”

“My thought exactly.” He kissed her forehead. “Go. I'll be along.”

Adira smiled in reply, straightened the neck of his robe, and addressed Sheridan with a small curtsy. “I hope you rest well. I'm sure it has been quite a day.”

He couldn't hide a weary smile. “Quite a day, yes.”

"Good night, then." She pecked Londo on the cheek and padded back up the tiled hall. Londo watched her, looking wistful and grinning like a fool. 

“You seem really happy, Londo.”

“I believe I am, in fact.” A hint of blush colored his cheeks. “Although, I invite bad luck if I admit it too loudly too often. Bring your tea along with you, I'll tidy this later.”

“YOU will? Don't you have servants for that?”

"Servants?" His brow arched. “Do you mean the servers at the party? No, the caterers left hours ago. We don't keep a staff here.”

“I'm shocked! I thought you were royalty.”

“When you've been chained to a throne for fifteen years, doing your own chores feels like royalty." He smirked and set his mug on the tray. "Now get your drink and follow me.”

The mansion felt smaller than it had during the party. Shadow hid the artistic accents, and the various halls and sitting rooms were closed off by polished doors. A flight of carpeted stairs led them into a cozier, more private second floor with starlaces lighting the the plush interior. 

Londo opened a room with a rose carved into the handle. “This will do, if you like.”

The rose theme was amplified tenfold inside. Floral wallpaper stretched up the twelve-foot ceilings. A canopied bed dressed in a thick red comforter was crowded with tasseled pillows. A massive wooden bureau stood against the wall with a matching stool and vanity mirroring its placement on the other. Sheridan staggered at the excess and couldn't help a sarcastic, “Wow.”

“Thank you.” Londo grinned. “There should be extra linens in dresser, and night clothes if you'd like them. The washroom is through the door back there. If you need anything else, our room is up the hall.” 

Sheridan breathed in the perfumed air. The tightness in his chest untwisted. “Thanks again for all this.”

“Don't mention it." He stepped out. "Goodnight, Captain.”

"Good night." Sheridan took another drink of spice tea, feeling it warm him all the way down. When Kosh found him in the street, he was reeling from the influx of uncertainty and change. Now he was in a Centauri mansion, sharing wisdom with a man who almost personified change, and feeling more calm and assured than he'd even thought possible. “Londo, wait.”

“Yes?”

Sheridan grinned. “Call me John.”

Londo smiled broadly, amused and clearly touched. He bowed his head with a hand between his hearts. “Goodnight, John.”

The bedroom door shut. Sheridan didn't bother undressing. He set his cup on the bureau and fell face-first into the bed. The overstuffed blankets absorbed him like water into a sponge, surrounding him with the comfort and spiriting him off to sleep.


	11. Face a New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone was right. Sleep helped a lot.

Sheridan woke to sunlight streaming onto the canopy of his bed. His eyes traced the flower-patterns in the embroidery as his mind transitioned out of a dream. He'd been a child in a golden field. His son David was there, and the two ran and played the whole night, not bothered for a moment that they were both the same age. 

He unrolled himself from the thick covers and planted his feet on the floor. His army of light uniform wasn't wrinkled even though he'd slept in it all night. He tugged off his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows as he stepped into the washroom. Inside was a porcelain bathtub and matching gold-fixtured sink. No toilet, which seemed odd until he noticed that despite all the drinking and eating, his insides were still calm and comfortable – a weird detail, but admittedly convenient. 

John ran some warm water and rubbed a palm-full over his face. Water felt good, which is probably why the sink still existed. He scratched the whiskers on his chin, and met his face in the mirror. Like with the toilet, it took him a moment to realize his goatee had grown back while he slept. The man in the mirror was now closer to forty, looking like he did when he became the president. The change was only visual apparently, because he didn't feel any older, and the aches that plagued him after the Earth Civil War were nowhere to be found. It was still unnerving to wake up looking different than before. He'd just gotten used to being young and now he was old.

“...Kosh?” Sheridan spoke to the walls, but no Vorlon answered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Lorien?” Still no reply. He added his face to the list of questions to ask someone later, finished his washing and slipped into the hall. 

The universe hung low in a cerulean blue sky. He didn't know how time worked beyond the rim, but at least he'd gotten SOME sleep. He re-buttoned his jacket as he ventured downstairs. The first floor was still dark. Clanging pots drew him to the kitchen. The room was massive, lined in cabinets and various appliances. A chest-high marble counter top decorated in greenery, stretched nearly the entire length of the room, out into a solarium with a view of the garden and a door to the veranda. The ceiling was twice as tall as the other interior rooms with broad skylights clouded in dew from the morning. 

“Good morning John,” Adira said from the stove. She looked up from from a bubbling pot with a double take. “I see you are trying a new look.”

“I guess.” He scratched at his beard. “Wish I knew how or why.”

“Don't be alarmed, it happens sometimes. You've been going through a lot of changes, recently. It could take a while for you to settle into a new normal.”

“So I aged ten years last night?”

“Not necessarily aged.” She grinned coyly. “Are you feeling perhaps WISER today, Mr. President?”

He had to admit she was right, although the revelation struck him dumb. “Huh...”

“If you don't like it, I do have a razor.”

“No, it's fine. It'll probably be gone before I know it.” He sat in one of the tall, narrow chairs along the island. “So people's bodies just morph around here?”

“It happened while you were asleep.” She poured him a fresh mug of spice tea for him. “When we are asleep we are at our most honest, that's when any change happens.” 

“The Minbari believe something similar about sleep.When Delenn and I were engaged she watched me sleep to see my 'true face' to test my quality or something like that. It was unnerving at first, but when you're dating a Minbari you get used to things being odd and over-complicated.” 

“You'll take to the rim very well, then.” Adira mused and returned to stirring a tulip-shaped pot. “Some time after Londo arrived here, the two of us had a bit of a spat. In reflection it was a lover's quarrel, but at the time it upset me enough to keep me from sleep. That night I watched Londo's hair turn gray right in front of me. It was strange and additionally upsetting. I thought for certain I was losing him.”

“I'm glad to see it worked out.”

She shrugged. “We all change over time. He used to have a violent anger, but over the course of his life it became quiet and fuming. Inward. Once I saw that, I understood better. He was surprised to see his reflection the next morning. It forced him to consider his own heart, as you say. That's when we mended.”

Sheridan watched her stir her breakfast, his mind venturing to his own changes, and to Anna and Delenn. His life continued past Anna's perception of him, and that altered who he was to the point that he couldn't go back to her. He sipped his tea to clear his throat. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Not at all.”

“How long did you have to wait? For Londo, I mean. He said you beat him here.”

“Almost twenty years.”

“That's a long time....” His heart clenched. “You must have loved him a lot.”

“Are you asking for the story, sir?”

“Only if you want to share it.”

She sighed and removed the pot from heat. “I loved many men in my short life. They wooed me with gowns and jewelry and fine things, but to them my value was only the riches in which they dressed me. They wore me like a decoration draped on their arm and I was content with that, for I had no value. At least not among Centauri.” 

“I don't believe that.”

“You should because I was a slave.”

“A slave?”

“Sold for profit by my family.” She turned her face away. “They knew at a young age I was beautiful. I fetched a higher price for them as property than I would have as a bride.”

“That's awful.”

“That is to be Centauri. We value wealth, power, and family name. When I met Londo, I assumed he would be like my other lovers, but although he thought me a common dancer, he humbled himself to me. The gifts he gave me were sincerity, and family, and future. He grew me starlaces.” She laughed to herself. “When I betrayed his trust he gave me forgiveness and risked his life and career to rescue me. His love helped buy my freedom. I left Babylon 5 to start a new life as my own person, but once gone I realized his gifts traveled with me. I could not forget him, so after a while I chose to be with him.” She returned to stirring her pot. “Unfortunately death met me first.”

The words were heavy. Sheridan hated to trouble her further, but couldn't help himself. He wet his lips and stared into his mug. “Were you lonely?”

“A bit. Very few of my friends and family were waiting here, but we are all a part of the universe – it found a place for me, and a purpose. It put me in charge of greeting some of the other lonely souls who arrive here. People who crossed the barrier with no friends or family instead met me and anyone else my sources told me would please them. Religious figures, cultural icons, old teachers or heroes... I've made so many friends." 

He broke a smile. "You're a party planner?"

"I planned yours. At least the guest list. My husband may be emperor, but I am the one with the enviable address book." She turned with an understanding smile. “But you are not interested in my work. You ask me all this because you are waiting for someone, yes?”

A splash of adrenaline hit his gut as his heart swelled and broke at the same time. “Yeah, I am.”

Adria softened. “I know it feels like an eternity now, but do not worry. Your soul knows what it wants. My twenty years were filled with love and friendship and new experiences, all of which I shared with my emperor when he arrived.”

“How did you know he would come back to you?”

“I suppose that I didn't. But I hoped.” She tasted the contents of her pot with another spoon. “Can I get you some breakfast? You're probably hungry after yesterday.”

“I am, actually,” he said. “What are you making?”

“I'm just heating up leftovers from last night. I'm not much of a cook, actually. Not like G'Kar is, but I'm happy to throw together something if you'd like. How about some fruit to start?” She nodded to the basket in the center of the counter. “Don't worry about it upsetting your stomach. Here you can eat anything, and it'll taste the best it knows how to.”

Sheridan couldn't help but smile. “Food knows it's true self, too?”

“Well, fruit grows it's true self,” she mused. “Souls can still prepare it poorly.”

Sheridan drummed his fingers on the table and studied the basket of strange shapes and colors. His stomach growled through the pause. “Is it okay if I ask you a stupid question this time?”

“I doubt it is stupid.”

“There's no... toilet... in the bathroom. Where does everything go?”

“Our bodies are made of light,” Adira answered. “As we live we use energy, which we eat and sleep to replenish. The feeling of a digestive system inside you is part of your sense of self. It feels as you expect it to, but it's an energy exchange. There's no real waste to speak of.”

“What happens if you don't eat? Do you die?”

“You sleep a lot. You can also stave off sleep by eating more, although your mind is not as sharp and you wouldn't have that handsome beard.” She grinned. “It's more efficient for us to do both. I suspect that is why the universe continued with day and night – to keep us all working at our best. Of course that doesn't stop my husband from sleeping in.” 

“Mollari!” G'Kar's bold, demanding voice echoed from somewhere above them, accompanied by the rapid clomp of boots on stairs. Sheridan checked the main hallway, but the Narn appeared instead from a staircase directly adjoining the kitchen, wearing casual attire and holding a stack of papers. “Oh! Good morning, Captain. You're here early.”

“I could say the same about you,” Sheridan said. “Did you spend the night as well?”

“Spend the night? I live here.” G'Kar trotted to the the stove. “Dira! Read this!”

She barely dropped the spoon before the pages were in her hands. “What is it?”

“A poem – no – an opus!” He cheered. “Last night, inspiration struck. I've been working on it for six hours. What do you think?”

“G'Kar, I really don't know anything about Narn poetry.”

“Nonsense. Read it! Read it!” He rubbed his gloved hands together like an anxious child. 

Adira scanned through the pages with the Narn looming over her. She straightened the stack and forced a smile. “It's very nice.”

“I knew it!” He pressed the pages to his heart. “I am a genius!”

“Hold on,” Sheridan said. “You live in Londo's house?”

“Technically it's Adira's house.”

“It's everybody's house,” she lilted with an exasperated look at her guest. “After these two crossed over they became joined at the hip. So I invited G'Kar to live in the apartment upstairs.”

“Which I accepted when she told me I had access to their kitchen.” G'Kar grabbed a fruit from the basket and took the seat opposite Sheridan at the counter. “I've got my own, of course, but there's something so satisfying about a magic pantry full of surprise food.” 

“Speaking of,” Adira ventured over her shoulder. “Is there any bread left?” 

“There's still sweet bread. I ate all the coarse grain.”

She shook her head and wiped her hands on a dry towel. “Excuse me a moment, gentlemen.”

“Of course,” Sheridan grinned. Adira slipped into a separate pantry room and he leaned forward on the counter to speak to G'Kar. “Seriously, I can't believe you're here. I mean, Jeff said you were in the city, but I figured you'd be living in the Narn part of it.”

“Hmph.” G'Kar turned contemplative. “I admit the Narn neighborhood is more appealing than the Narn region. I cannot say at what point I stopped feeling at home with my own people, but whenever I return there I am surrounded by either pilgrims or soldiers, and there's still a great bitterness among those who've died. I could not bring Mollari there, and there are aspects of myself that do not belong, either. I still love my homeland and my culture, but I am more comfortable in this city, and even more so with my friends.”

“The soul knows what it wants,” Sheridan returned a smug smile. “And it's not a mystery when you stopped feeling at home, though. I can guess when that happened.”

“And when would that be?”

“Babylon 5.”

The Narn turned reflective and shifted in his seat. “That place had a knack for opening one's mind. I suspect the Narn who entered that world would barely recognize the one who sits before you now.”

“I think the before and after versions of John Sheridan would feel the same way,” Sheridan said. “We lived there for such a short time, yet I always think back on it more fondly than it probably was. There was a lot of war in those years. A lot of pain and loss. But the lessons I learned and the friends I made there were invaluable to me. In a certain light, the place actually killed me, but I can't really hold that against it, either. I love it. I loved the family we had there.”

“It was certainly unique.”

“Yeah...” Sheridan's joy dimmed. His heart sank to a dark place in his chest. “It's gone now.”

“Gone?”

“Destroyed.” He stared into his drink. “They blew it up yesterday.”

“Wow.” G'Kar set his fruit aside. “I will not deny that pains me to know. I suppose nothing in the mortal world can last forever, but I still feel some things should if at all possible.”

Sheridan sighed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Boot-heels clacked up the tiled hallway, heralding Londo dressed in green and purple. “Good morning, all.” He scanned the faces with a pout. “Aren't we looking sad today? Did that sleep not satisfy you Captain?”

“The sleep was just fine. Great even.” Sheridan leveled a finger at him. “And it's John, remember?”

Londo assumed the same warm and slightly flustered smile as before. “Yes, Mr. President. I did not forget.”

“Good morning, my Londo.” Adira reappeared holding a tray of sliced bread. The two met for brief kiss as she slid the loaf into what appeared to be a heated cabinet. “I mixed you a jalla.”

“Ah! Wonderful.”

“Mollari.” G'Kar gathered his stack of papers and met Londo before he could reach the bar. “Read this.”

“What is it?”

“A poem,” Adira said. 

“An opus,” Sheridan corrected.

Londo leaned on the counter and glanced over the sheets. “You just wrote this?”

“Yes, yes, what do you think?”

He raised his thick eyebrows. “Well, it's not Centauri.”

“Ingrate!” G'Kar scowled and snatched at his pages. “Art is wasted on you!”

“Hold on, hold on!” Londo held the work at arm's length. “Give me a chance at it at least.”

“And to think I trusted your subjectivity.” G'Kar fumed back to his seat. He was met by Adira who placed a steaming bowl of hot porridge and toast before him. G'Kar brightened immediately. “Ooo!”

“It's so easy, really,” Sheridan teased.

“I have heard the quickest way to peace is through food,” Adira said, “and spoo is the bridge between Narn and Centauri.”

“Fresh or aged... hot,” G'Kar dipped two fingers in his bowl. “Hot is the new thing.”

“I'll just take your word for it.” Sheridan chuckled. He finally chose a fruit from the waiting basket. It was tart, but delicious and paired perfectly with the added spice in his tea. The sweet toast fresh from the heater brought the taste spectrum to completion. If he were still with the Minbari, such balance deserved a prayer. 

Everyone was seated. Fasts were broken. Londo studied G'Kar's verses as he sipped his steaming chalice. All was calm for a brief moment when an explosion sounded somewhere in the distance. The crash was muffled, but the aftershock rattled the dishes on the counter top. A massive cloud of white smoke billowed somewhere on the horizon. 

Londo and G'Kar exchanged a serious look. Before they could speak, a white portal opened in thin air beyond the counter. The gateway was little more than a pane of light extending seven feet from the top to where it met the floor. Sheridan stared at the anomaly, stunned beyond comprehension until Valen, dressed as entil'za, stepped from the light.

“Gentlemen, Adira,” Valen greeted. “Hello, John.”

Sheridan shook from a confused daze. “Sinclair? What's happening.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Valen smiled but his voice strained just a titch – enough for Sheridan to see through the lie. “Londo, G'Kar, if you'd come with me?”


	12. The Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two minutes ago things were actually peaceful, then something exploded.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid it is urgent." Valen stood in the lighted doorway as smoke from the explosion drifted in the view beyond the solarium windows. He passed Londo and G'Kar each a metal strip that unfolded into a pair of holographic displays. A siren screeched among the buildings. Sheridan thought he heard gunfire. Were there guns beyond the Rim? 

Londo and G'Kar shared a look over the kitchen counter, exchanging questions and answers using only their eyes. Sheridan studied them closely, but couldn't parse the conversation. He used his voice instead. “What's going on?”

“Don't worry, John.” G'Kar rose, per Valen's request. “I'm sure everything's fine.”

"You say that, but you guys are far to serious for this to be normal.”

“Normal no, but we have procedures to follow,” Valen kept his tone light. “There's no reason to be upset. Agents are already on the scene. We'll have it under control before you know it.”

“Agents? What?”

“I'm sorry, I don't have time to explain.”

“Try anyway.” 

Valen grunted, impatient. “I mentioned before I was in Lorien's service. That is why I'm here. We keep the peace on both sides of the veil. Londo and G'Kar work for him as well and they – specifically Londo in this case – are required for Lorien's backup plan. If worse comes to worst and current efforts fail, Lorien wants them on hand.”

“Specifically Londo?'” Adira wrung her hair between her shaky hands. 

Londo looked up from his readout and rounded the counter to take her in one arm. He turned to Valen. “It will be safe here, yes?”

“The threat is localized in the Earth region. The city should be fine.”

Another explosion belched smoke from somewhere past the horizon, followed by more blaring sirens and screams. Adira buried her face in the shoulder of Londo's green coat. He pulled her closer, bending to whisper so soft Sheridan could barely make it out. The disturbance was still far away. They've done such things before. There was no cause to worry. He would not leave her without cause. 

A fire kindled in Sheridan's heart. He rose from his seat at the counter. "If they go, I'm going, too."

Valen frowned. "Aboslutely not."

“I know I'm new here," he insisted. "I've only been dead a day, but that doesn't mean I won't do my part. You ask these two to put themselves at risk, I'm willing to do the same. I'll help defend this place any way I can, just tell me what Lorien needs me to do.”

“He needs to you stay where you are,” Valen said. "Your intent is appreciated. We'll revisit it in the future. For now, guard yourself." He nodded to the other men. “Gentlemen? Please.”

“If you must go, you must go.” Adira raise her head to meet Londo's eyes. “Promise me you'll be careful.”

“I will for you, my dove.”

“Don't worry, Dira," G'Kar said. "I will look after him.”

“Look after each other.” Tears stood in her anxious eyes. “My boys must come home.”

G'Kar clapped Sheridan on the back on his way into the portal. Londo and Adira shared a kiss and he vanished into the light as well. Sheridan's hands shook in fists. After Anna, and Kosh, and everything else, he'd found one thing beyond the Rim that gave him the courage to wait for Delenn and now it was being ripped apart in on front of him while he was forced to do nothing. “This isn't fair.”

“I know,” Valen said. "Be patient. We'll make it up to you - " 

As he spoke, two more figures emerged from the white of the glowing portal; Lennier and Marcus both dressed as Rangers.

"Relax, Val, we'll take it from here." Marcus elbowed Valen as they flanked him. "Lorien wants you back." 

"Immediately?"

"Things have escalated," Marcus saluted to Sheridan. "Hello, Captain.” 

Sheridan's frown deepened. “What happening now?”

"Nothing significant." He flourished with a joking grin. “It's become a bit of a crazy day it seems, so Lennier and I were tasked to be your bodyguards."

The news and how he said it soured Sheridan's stomach even more. "I don't need bodyguards."

"Lorien thinks you do," Marcus said. "You're very important to him.”

“Too important to let me help him.”

"For now, yes."

Lennier cleared his throat and folded his hands with a bow. “Forgive us, Captain. We mean no disrespect. It is for the good of both realms that we stand by your side. Please accept our help.”

Ironic, but Sheridan reminded himself of their joint resolution. The man greeting him this morning was visibly younger with better color, fuller cheeks, and smoother bonework around the top. Whether it was the result of the words they'd exchanged or his own inner peace, Lennier was once again the confident young attache ready to serve, and Sheridan had little choice but to trust him. "Fine."

“Very good," Valen sighed. He glanced to Lennier. “Keep him safe no matter what.”

“You have my word.”

Valen vanished into the portal and the light slid closed behind, leaving an unbroken view of a perfect blue sky and three columns of smoke billowing in a distant portion of the city. Screeches echoed, mixed with screams of souls frightened from their sweet hereafters. Adira hugged herself tightly, her moist eyes averted. Gunfire rumbled amid the buildings. 

Marcus ignored the commotion. “Well, this got awkward fast.”

Sheridan grumbled. “It didn't have to be.”

“Don't be mad at Lorien," Marcus said. "We'll answer your questions if you want.” 

“Get on with it, then,” Sheridan spat. “What's happening out there?"

"Wish we knew," Marcus replied. "I got called out of bed to come watch you because of a destructive event. That's the gist."

"Okay, so who are you guys?" Sheridan asked. "You work for Lorien, sure. Jeff used the word 'agents,' are you like cops or..."

"We are a volunteer militia," Lennier answered. “For centuries, the Shadows and the Vorlons interfered with the natural progression of sapient life in the galaxy. We fought them when we all lived, and at the end of the conflict they retreated beyond the Rim where they maintain a strict cease fire.”

“Just as the Drakh continued the war in the mortal realm, ripples of the old ones' intervention continue to disturb the natural order,” Marcus continued. “The Universe desires natural law, so Lorien and the other Old Ones recruit souls to help restore the balance. We do not fight for the light or dark, we fight for sake of the young races that they may continue to grow and change in their own way. We, the agents of the sentient Universe, are the Army of Light.”

"So that's why this perfect city where everything warps into the best version of itself is currently under attack?" Sheridan scowled. "Because the war is unwon?" 

"Relax, John, that's not what I said." 

"After everything Delenn and I risked and sacrificed..." The anger swelled to heat his face. "Delenn gave that name to OUR rebellion. Our SUCCESSFUL rebellion.” 

“Please don't be upset,” Lennier assured. “The war we fought together was indeed won. And the group to which we belong now had no name when we joined it. We chose the title to honor Delenn and the Army of Light's service in the second war. We mean no disrespect.”

"It's still war," Sheridan shook his head. "It left the living world and came here beyond the Rim. I can't stand it."

“I can't blame you,” Marcus said. “The good news is that such battles in this realm are few and far between. Most our missions are in the living side - removing stay elements that harm the natural progression. Personally, I hate seeing it bleed over. This place is supposed to be at peace.” 

“Then why has it?”

“I wish I could tell you.”

Injustice rumbled in the pit of Sheridan's stomach. He prepared another argument, but Adira spoke first. The quiver in her voice mirrored the fear and uncertainty that fed his anger. “How much danger is there?” The Centauri tugged at her braid as she shifted weight from one foot to the other. “He said they were a backup plan... will they have to fight? Will Londo - ”

Another explosion. Adira yelped and covered her ears as smoke and rubble ballooned, much closer than the previous three. Lennier snapped open a holographic display and began scrolling. At least the afterlife was up to date on tech. "That one was within the city limits." 

"Still decently far, though." Marcus cleared a catch in his throat. “How about we continue this someplace more comfortable? The living room perhaps? Away from all these windows?”

"Answer Adira's question," Sheridan said. “She has a right to know if her family's in danger.” 

“She's asking about Londo and G'Kar. They do stuff like this all the time,” Marcus dismissed. “Come, let's sit. You'll feel better if you're not staring at it.”

Adira looked doubtful, but led the group into the living room. Morning light streamed in the grouted front windows, casting colored shapes from the stained Mollari insignia framed above. Lennier took a position beneath it and watched the street with his holographic panel still open in the air in front of him. Marcus attempted a casual position against the fireplace mantle, but his hand kept drifting to the belt-holster beneath his coat. Sheridan assumed he was armed with his fighting pike, although he wasn't sure how much good a hand-to-hand weapon would do against something causing explosions. 

Adira sank into a velvet love seat and covered her face with her hands. Although he'd only known her for a short time he saw himself in the way she was being shuffled around by Lorien and his agents, and in her trial of patience as she waited twenty years for Londo to join her. It couldn't have been easy for her, and he was pretty sure it wasn't going to be for him, either. Sheridan took the seat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She spared him a grateful look and folded her arms across her chest. “It's worrying.”

“Yeah...” He tried to sound reassuring. “I'm sure it looks worse than it is. If what these guys said is right, Londo and G'Kar do this stuff pretty often. I'm sure they knew what they're doing.”

“They are politicians,” Adira muttered. “They go on political missions – wars of words. They aren't called upon for conflicts of guns and explosions – ” 

Another blast shook the ground and rattled the paintings on the walls. Adira jumped and covered her mouth. Sheridan put his arm around her shaking shoulders. “Take a deep breath and find your center. I realize I'm new, and there's a lot of things I don't know, but I know this; we can only die here, if we give up living and Londo and G'Kar will never give up, no matter how tough it gets. ”

Adira exhaled. Her back relaxed under his arm. “Thank you.”

“That last explosion was even closer,” Lennier said to Marcus. “We should consider evacuating.”

“Close? It was miles off.” 

“Not as many miles as before.”

“It has to be a coincidence.”

Lennier scrolled on his display. “This world is too big for coincidence.”

“Hold on,” Sheridan interrupted. “Why would they come here?”

“No reason,” Marcus said quickly. “Don't worry.”

“Look, stop it,” Sheridan rose. “I am sick and tired of being treated like a moron when I'm trying my best just to understand what's going on. You said you'd answer my questions now answer them. Why are they coming here and does it have something to do with why I need bodyguards?”

Lennier took a deep breath and turned from the window. “Very well.”

Marcus whinged. “Don't, Lennier.”

“There's no coincidence that this has happened so close to your arrival,” Lennier said. “You are what we call an axle personality. As it was so elegantly stated last night, you are the man who changed the galaxy – a fact those on this side have not forgotten.”

A cold chill like ice water swirled through Sheridan's core. “You mean... this his happening because of me?”

“We don't know that yet,” Marcus said quickly.

Sheridan's exhaustion was back with a vengeance. Weariness from battles and uncertainties threatened to break his heart in half. There was no anger, justice, or self-righteousness left to hold. He opened his fists. “Are people dying because of me?” 

Marcus met his eye. “Not if we can help it.”

“What you told Miss Tyree just now was correct,” Lennier said. “No soul here dies on accident, but memories of mortal life are strong and the assault of fear and pain can shock a soul into confusion. Newcomers are especially vulnerable, they lack the scope of an eternal perspective. It is our belief that this assault is an attempt to reach you while you are still unaware.”

“Can I BECOME aware?”

“Think of it like this,” Marcus said. “If a ninja popped out of the desk there and chopped your body in half, what would happen? Your mind and soul would expect you to bleed, so you will bleed. The pain would happen as you expected, because your expectation makes it happen. Your eyes would see the severed limbs and spilled guts dissolving away and start a panic. In that moment, would you know how to regenerate your body? Would such a concept even occur, or would you pray for release from the fear and pain?”

Adira flinched. Sheridan returned his hand to her shoulder. "That seems like a really awful thing for people made of light to still deal with."

“We never let go of our bodily perceptions,” Lennier continued. “Nor would we want to – it is what gives us a sense of self. A soul with more experience would know how to distance themselves from their bodies. We can train you to do that, but not at this moment. Now we must protect you.”

Silence passed for a couple beats of Sheridan's phantom heart. The danger to his friends, family, and fellow souls was his fault by just existing. He lacked the tools to fight this war, but more importantly he lacked his partner in battle. As much as he'd missed Delenn before it was nothing compared to the longing he felt in that moment when her absence at his side was like facing a giant without a sling. More than lonely, he was diminished. His hand involuntarily tightened on Adira's shoulder. She covered it with her own, brushing his fingers with her thumb. 

A knocked sounded at the front door, causing all four of them to jump. The whole group exchanged glances as the knock sounded again, harder. Adira stood to answer it, but Lennier gestured for her to stop and closed his display. The knocking persisted, gaining speed and desperation. With a final glance across the room to Marcus, Lennier drew the door aside to reveal Anna Sheridan, disheveled and in tears. 

“John!”

“Anna?”

She shoved past Lennier and threw her arms around Sheridan's neck. “Thank god I found you! You have to get out of here!”

“What is it? What's wrong?”

“Last night when you ran off, I searched the town but couldn't find you," she said. "Then when I got home I saw this... this THING destroying our house. It tore out the whole wall. It was so angry!”

Sheridan turned to Lennier. "Is that the explosions?"

"Yes, that's the explosions."

"I think it saw me head this way," Anna insisted. "You have to hide somewhere -- another region or someplace else. Anywhere. It's hunting you!"

Another explosion rumbled close enough to crack the ceiling and shake the paintings off the walls. Adira screamed. Billowing clouds of dust rolled past the front window. Marcus poked his head out the front door. “Valen's name!”

Rubble covered the street from one of the mansions where a massive insect-like creature towered over the roofs. It resembled the Shadows, but was larger than any Sheridan had seen in the war. Two mantis-like arms sliced through the buildings around it. Spines like protruding spears jutted from the torso at random angles below a broad, bladed head covered with glowing white eyes. The massive head pivoted and fixed on the mansion, shedding plaster powder in a veil as it screamed with a voice shrill enough to crack the stained glass.


	13. Camelot Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiju attack. Some people get squashed and stuff. PG13

It reminded Sheridan of old Japanese monster movies. The Shadow-like creature roared and destroyed buildings with an army of tiny little soldiers staging an offensive. The agents of Lorien's army were from an array of different races wearing just as many uniforms with different forms and weaponry. Vorlons hovered in air, using white light like tethers. Laserblasts glanced off it's blackened carapace as the agents fired nets and tow-lines at the creature's many limbs. The monster tore through all offense, throwing soldiers left and right. It wasn't like the Shadows Sheridan knew during the war. It thrashed and screamed in tantrums without the any of the quiet dignity of the old ones.

The creature's sharpened forelegs cut the buildings to chunks like towers of blocks. A piece fell on a fleeing Centauri, squashing him flat. A Vorlon broke the battle to assist him, but Sheridan didn't know what it could do. He knew “death” was more stubborn beyond the Rim, but what does a soul do when their body has been destroyed? How could they persist? He didn't know – and that was why Lorien was protecting him. He couldn't bring himself to imagine what the fallen man looked like under all of that debris.

Anna yanked Sheridan from the window. “Why are you all just standing here? We have to escape!”

“Not this way,” Marcus shut and locked the door. “It'll see us for sure.”

Anna snarled. “Is there a back door?” 

“Yes, the veranda,” Adira answered. “But we'll be closer to it there.”

“Closer doesn't matter,” Marcus said. “We need to find a Vorlon.”

Anna froze. “A Vorlon?” 

Sheridan remembered her fear. He covered her hand with his own. “What about your glowy door thing? Can we take that?”

“That's Lorien's gateway,” Lennier answered. “It must be opened from his side.”

“He wants me to be safe, he should open one.”

“I'm afraid it's more complicated than that.”

“More complicated? EVERYTHING here is complicated!”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Accept the 'no' and let it be.”

“This way,” Adira said. “We should leave through G'Kar's entrance. It empties to the street behind the house, we will find a Vorlon more quickly once we cross the bridge.” 

She led the group through the mansion as mayhem and destruction reigned outside. Clumps of broken plaster fell from the decorated ceiling, dusting the tile with powder. Sheridan slipped and grabbed the door frame as they turned the corner toward the kitchen. Cabinet doors hung open on their hinges. Pots and pans littered the floor. Rubble like hailstones battered the open veranda as a chunk of a neighbor's roof crashed through the overhead skylight, sending sheets of broken glass to shatter against the center island. 

Anna held tight to Sheridan's hand as they followed Adira up the adjourning staircase. The flight was lined in paintings and photos featuring the three residents and their friends. The décor became more Narn-like as they emerged to a small foyer with a red door in a polished marble frame. Anna shoved past Adira to grab the handle.“It's locked!”

“He doesn't trust you.” Adira said and elbowed Anna out of the way. The door opened to a heavily incensed room. Sheridan recognized the details from G'Kar's quarters on Babylon 5, with a lot more naked stonework. Red lights lit crowded bookcases and decorative ornamentation. Cushions and papers were strewn everywhere. What looked like a three-cupped fur brassiere hung by a strap on the overhead light fixture. Sheridan shook his head. Yep, exactly the same.

A door on the far side led them down a curved stairwell. The five descended past a sitting room and open balcony where screams and gunfire echoed from outside. Another chunk of building sailed into the house across the street. A woman fell from the second floor. Sheridan's heart pounded as guilt twisted his stomach. 

The group sprinted the remaining stairs to ground level where a massive stone entryway opened to a downward-sloping street. Trees from the riverside arched overhead, framing the path to a stone bridge. Centauri neighbors fled across it, dropping belongings as they went. “There's a marketplace beyond the river," Adira said. "There are always Vorlons there.”

The creature rose into view above the roof of the mansion, it's blade-shaped head turning slow like a spotlight. Sheridan huddled with the others in G'Kar's sheltered doorway, listening through the panic and gunfire for any sign of the creature's movements. Lennier opened his holographic display, typing desperately with both hands. A moment of tense silence passed before the monster released a shrill roar. The wall above their heads shed mortar as it bubbled outward. Sheridan snapped to action. “Run!”

A scythe-like black forearm swept through the wall above them, scattering bricks and debris in sheets of stone. Bits of roof and wall landed like missiles as the group fled. Sheridan was propelled at top speed by the combined strength of Anna and Lennier, one on each arm. Adira screamed somewhere behind him. Sheridan craned his neck in time to watch Adira and Marcus vanish beneath a heavy pile of debris. 

“Stop!” Sheridan resisted the pull of his escorts. “Lennier! The others – !”

His jaw was clenched tight. “I saw.”

“We have to go back!”

“That's not the mission.” 

“Damn the mission!” Sheridan snarled. All this chaos was his fault. Lennier spoke of agent training. Marcus probably knew how to survive, but did Adira? Did she know how to hold on? After twenty years of waiting for her lover to join her, was her light snuffed like a candle because of something he did?

Sheridan yanked free of Anna and Lennier and ran back to the mansion. The Shadow creature's back was to them as it battled Lorien's army, displacing more of the mansion with each step of its many massive legs. Rubble rained as Sheridan ran, littering the path where his friends fell. The ground was scattered with broken shingles. A chunk large enough to crush him landed less than a body length ahead, a bit of rose-patterned wallpaper fluttered from the side like a flag. 

Sheridan stopped, panting. The landscape had completely changed in the constant wave of destruction. He spotted G'Kar's door peeking out from a pile of brick and dug his way toward it. Lennier and Anna reappeared as he shifted through the pile. 

"John!" Anna's voice shook. 

Lennier didn't say a word, but dove in beside him, moving broken walls and bits of furniture as fast as he could. The creature above them continued to root through the ruined house, tossing bits of building at the soldiers shooting lasers from the street. Someone fired a cannon. The impact drove the monster a step back. 

Anna covered her ears and grabbed Sheridan from behind. “John, please! We have to go!”

“Not without my friends.”

“They did this for you!” Desperation stripped her voice of everything but fear. She tugged the back of his jacket. “I know you don't want to be selfish. I know you're trying to help but think of me! I can't lose you again, John, you're all I have. I need you.”

“No, you don't!” Sheridan rounded on her, striking fear into her already pain-reddened eyes. The screams and throes of destruction reverberated in the momentary tension. Sheridan set his brow. “I'm not the person you want me to be, Anna and I never will be. It's not my fault you can't see it.”

He returned to the debris pile, shoveling chunks of rock from side to side until he spotted a red-colored gemstone glinting in the sunlight. Sheridan recognized the fan-shaped pendant from the chain around Adira's neck. He seized it – the chain was attached. It led beneath a boulder. He wedged his fingers under the lip. “Lennier!” 

Anna watched as the Ranger added his strength to Sheridan's effort. The two shifted the slab, revealing the tiny Centauri, cut and bloody with her limbs curled tight in a ball. Sheridan caught his breath. “Adira!”

“J-John?” Dust fell from her hair as she painfully turned her face to the light. Sheridan fell to his knees as their eyes met. The woman caught her breath and with sudden force, leaped into his arms. “Thank the Gods!”

She cried into his shoulder, blood seeping from many wounds. He pulled her trembling body safely from the dirt. “It's okay. It's all right.”

“It was so dark. It hurt....” She held tighter. “I thought I was slipping away.”

Lennier interrupted. “Where's Marcus?”

Adira gasped. “He was holding my hand!”

The pile to their left stirred with the familiar “shik” of a denn'bok. The pike appeared like a car jack, raising a large slab of wood and plaster form the growing mound. Lennier wedged his shoulder under the refuse and dragged his partner from beneath it.

Marcus emerged, pale and coughing, his dark hair was slick with blood. “Lennier. Valen's name, what are you all still doing here?”

Lennier gripped his shoulder. “It was the president's decision. I was glad to follow his lead.”

Marcus stood on shaky legs. He wiped his eyes and cracked a smile. “You sentimental bastards.”

Another cannon-blast shifted the rubble stacked around them. The creature released another scream and staggered backward through the last remaining walls. Fire spewed from an impact point in the center of its chest as white clouds billowed to obscure its face from view. 

“Now would be our chance.” Lennier regarded Marcus. “Can you run?”

“I can if I don't think about it.”

“Miss Tyree?” 

Adira shuddered. Her left ankle was split and swollen from the shin down. She lowered the toe to the ground and, trembling, shook her head 'no.' 

The smoke was beginning to clear. Lennier gathered Adira under her shoulders and knees. Sheridan gestured to Anna, but she didn't move. She stared dumbly into the middle-distance, ankle-deep in rubble with tears rolling down her ashen face. 

“Anna!” Sheridan stepped close and took her arm. 

Anna blinked and met his eyes, her face drawn in horror. Her mouth twitched in an attempt to speak. “Go on without me.”

“What?”

“After all this time...” The tears flowed again. “Let it kill me. Save yourself.”

Another missile hit the monster, sending fireballs into their midst. Anna screamed and the creature's head snapped toward her voice. Its glowing white eyes fixed on them with an arresting sense of dread. Sheridan saw fury and intelligence, but not focusing on him. The shadow-like monster stared at Anna Sheridan with a dozen sharply focused eyes. 

The creature pivoted like a hinge on it's spider-like body and swung with its bladed claw. Sheridan grabbed both of Anna's wrists and leaped to avoid impact. The creature cut the ground where they'd been standing with earth-shaking force. Anna cowered, but Sheridan dragged her with him to the street. The party ran across the bridge, now vacant of retreating locals. Anna's grip on his hand increased with their pace. Roars echoed behind them as the monster ignored his attackers and tore out of the ruined home. Its many legs scurried forward. The bridge vibrated with every step. Sheridan couldn't look back. They had to keep running. A deafening shriek roared right behind them. The creature's shadow stretched ahead. 

“Oh God, John!” Anna was glancing more up than behind. “Faster! Go faster!”

The stone cracked and beneath them, shifting under tremendous weight. Sheridan pumped his legs as hard as he can but was stopped dead in his tracks with a sudden smack to the pavement and a flash of white hot pain. 

Anna's hand pulled from his grip as momentum carried her forward. He saw a millisecond of her horror before the force of his injury set in. The monster's bladed arm pressed into and through the center of his chest. Bones broke. Organs ruptured. He couldn't catch his breath. White starbursts blurred his vision as thoughts and words escaped with the blood pouring out to the street. The monster raked him face-down across the pavement before hoisting him upward.

The monster flung him back toward the ruins of the Centauri neighborhood like a piece of loose garbage. Sheridan crashed through the wall of a mansion with skull-cracking force. The last thing he heard was Anna screaming his name.


	14. Passers on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finale part 1

Sheridan's entire existence was pain. It blinded his eyes, deafened his ears, blanked his mind, and numbed his senses. Everything was hurt. It was all he could process while his mind spun with questions. 

His heart was destroyed, was he bleeding? He wasn't breathing, his lungs were gone. How could he be alive like this, it was impossible? Why would he want to be? There was nothing left but white pain, dissolving him into nothing. It was like his first death, absorbed by light until he lost shape and form only instead of pleasant softness of honey warming in tea, this was sodium. Violent. Frightening. It wasn't going to end. There was no choice but to give in to it. 

A voice pierced the high pitched buzzing in his ears. “President Sheridan. Can you hear me?”

He could barely make out the words and couldn't answer without breath or body. Perhaps it was the Universe coming to ask him if he was ready to leave? He was. Boy was he. Anything to escape eternal torment. The voice spoke again. 

“You must concentrate. Can you feel my hand?”

What hand? He couldn't feel anything except agony. 

“It's your right hand. Focus on it. Can you feel me holding on?”

His right hand – he used to have one of those. Reality was a soup of white fire, but maybe if he fought through it he could IMAGINE having a right hand again. If he had a right hand he could imagine it being held by someone. That was a fantasy, though. It didn't make it real. What was it Anna told him? No matter how bad they wanted it, souls couldn't WILL things to appear. 

“The deterioration isn't stopping,” another voice said. “He doesn't believe it.”

“He will. He just has to try. Help is on the way.”

Deterioration? Help? The Universe wasn't conversing with itself. 

“Think about all you fought for,” said the first voice – the one holding his hand. “Think about Delenn.”

Delenn. The name stirred a different kind of pain somewhere deep in his heart. His thoughts fell into patterns around her elegant face: deep eyes, soft features, the strip of Minbari bone circling her head like a crown. He missed her so much, but she was in the living world and might be for years. If he slipped away now he might meet her, but his memories would be gone... left behind like that room of junk he found in Anna's apartment. He wouldn't know her, nor she him. They'd be ships in the dark. And when Delenn passed, if she crossed over, what would she find? His sad parents? A room full of thoughts of her abandoned in a pile? 

Imagining her standing there mourning him anew hurt worse than the physical pain, but did no erase it. Misery compounded the agony. Recycling himself would wipe his memory, too, but he was stronger than that. He'd worked too hard and too long to become the man he was. Delenn and David; Anna and his past; his friends beyond the Rim and those still waiting to cross over... his future meant more reunions and adventures, even a chance to so some good. If only he had the strength....

“Do you remember the resolution we made together?” The voice asked. “That we would build bridges for Delenn's sake? And keep trying for her?”

It was Lennier. Lennier was holding his hand. The voice was so clear and familiar, he was surprised he didn't realize it sooner. And he was right -- Delenn would want him to live. He thought of her standing before the council in the Minbari Civil War, the torture she endured from Sebastian when the Vorlons tested her strength, even the challenge of entering the chrysalis to become half a human. That change was long and painful, but she did it for her people. Her will was what made him love her. It was strong enough to keep him going as his body tore itself apart. He didn't even have a body, anyway. He was made of light. Him, her, the stars... everything was made of light. 

The second voice -- Marcus -- spoke. "Something is happening."

Sheridan let his mind sink into physical torture in a search for his own fingers. Lennier was holding his right hand – that was what he said. Pain ached in his chest, up the nerves to his shoulder, and down his arm to his palm held in another's grip.

“Very good!” Lennier almost cheered. “Captain, if you can hear us, focus on my voice. You have been gravely wounded, but you are already in your grave. Death has no power if you refuse to grant it. Meditate to my words.”

Mediation was something he learned as a Minbari citizen. They studied it in depth as part of the Rangers. He quieted his mind. 

“You are the Universe,” Lennier said. “You are John Sheridan. You are both in quiet agreement. The flesh that hurts you now is subliminal, but thoughts are of the mind. You are infinite. You stretch as far as the blackness of space, and as small as a single atom. You can exist beyond this form without losing your identity. Ascend now. Think of space as a pair of wings unfolding from your heart. You can rise out of this pain and this flesh. Let yourself go.”

Sheridan took a deep breath with lungs he previously didn't have. Noticing his chest came with pain so he put it from his mind. He was star stuff. An entity. The hurt faded and he unfolded like the map on his office wall, luminous like the galaxies, spreading into oblivion.

“Good.” There was a smile in Lennier's voice. "Now you can come back."

A warm feeling entered Sheridan from somewhere near his heart, spreading like anointing oil to every inch of his body. It swelled like a pool to create boundaries – feet and legs and arms. His thoughts cleared and he could hear things. Sheridan opened his eyes. 

He was in a posh Centauri living room atop a large pile of rubble. A jagged man-sized skylight opened above. He must have made that when he hit. It was almost amusing. He could see the decimated remains of Londo and G'Kar's mansion through the open wall to his left. 

Lennier sat at his right with Marcus visible over his shoulder. Adira hugged her her bandaged leg at Sheridan's feet. Anna hovered over him, his body cradled in her lap. A white tendril of light trailed out of his chest to a Vorlon with broad wings and a human-like head. 

“Kosh.” Sheridan's voice was raspy. It hurt to talk. The Vorlon withdrew his arm, taking the warmth away with it. A dull ache spread back through Sheridan's bones, but it was far more tolerable than had been. His lungs expanded and contracted with ease. “What just happened to me?”

“You almost gave up.” Lennier released his hand with a meek smile. “But you did not.”

“I heard your voice. Good job mentioning Delenn.”

The Minbari bowed his head. “Love is stronger than pain.”

Anna tightened her fist in the sleeve of his uniform, her breath hitching in barely controlled sobs. Tears had washed a clean stripe in a bloody smear under her eye. Sheridan reached up and touched it as softly as he could. “Is that mine?”

She nodded. 

“I'm glad.” He managed a smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Her sadness faded with a soft blush. “I am now, anyway.”

“Reunions are well and good, and we are all pleased you're still with us, but I'm afraid we can't stay here." Marcus traipsed the rubble to the open wall. "We're on borrowed time as it is.”

“Borrowed?” Sherdian started, but was interrupted by a deafening screech. Panic streaked like lightning down his aching limbs. “It's still alive?”

“And getting closer," Marcus said. "We escaped it by doubling back through the river, but that only confused it for a short while." 

"How did it -- " Sheridan sit forward. The wound in his chest was completely gone – bones, organs, and skin intact – but despite miraculous healing, it still hurt to breathe and bend. 

Lennier hoisted him up. “The pain you are no doubt feeling is a trauma response. Don't worry, your soul will recover, and much faster than a body built of chemicals could, as long as your will remains strong.”

“It's as strong as it can be.” Sheridan rubbed a hand down his face – his beard was gone again. “I'm never going to get used to this.”

“Briefly, let me apologize on behalf of Lorien and my fellow agents our failure in all of this, Captain," Lennier said. "The Shadows as a race have been nothing but cooperative for decades. None of us expected they would launch such an attack on you. Lorien expected more of them.”

“Wrong.” Kosh's voice reverberated in Sheridan's head and chest like the tone of a familiar bell. “They are not Shadow.”

The Minbari frowned. “Not the Shadows?”

“Corruption.”

Another shriek sounded, closer this time. The building around them shuddered as a huge chunk of stone crashed through the wall. Anna took on Sheridan's weight and hurried him against the wall as bits of roof crumpled and fell in pieces, leaving nothing over their heads but thet sky. Kosh shifted form and vanished in ribbon out the new hole, as the black creature shifted into view. Laser blasts and explosive projectiles pelted it's dark body as Kosh and other Vorlons attempted to restrain it's sharpened arms. The creature pulled against them, but stopped at the sound of one heavily-accented voice. 

“Stay where you are!”

Adira clutched her pendant, pale as a ghost. Londo stood on the roof of a nearby manor, wearing a suit of white and gold with G'Kar and two Vorlons behind. His voice was being amplified somehow – either magic or by a microphone. The Shadow-creature turned toward him with a guttural hiss. 

Londo's smirk colored in his tone. “Ah, so you do remember me.”

The monster ripped from the Vorlon's hold and lurched toward his roof. Adira gasped. G'Kar threw himself between the emperor and the monster, but Londo gripped his shoulder and strode back into view. 

“I know your face!” he called. “Last we met I killed you!” 

The monster screeched.

“Is this really the shape your soul takes? Your truest self?” Londo's voice lowered with a pitying tone. “We have done all we can to divert you or detain you, all that is left is destroy you, but I can see from here it is not too late. I can help, if you'll let me. If you're still capable of choice.”

Bladed arms slashed. Sheridan tensed, but the scythes sliced only air. The soldiers below waited with their guns still trained tight. 

“I know it is hard,” Londo said. “You think yourself past hope – that it is impossible to recover once you've become a thing such as this – but if anyone can justify proof of a second chance it is I.” He extended his hands. “I am unarmed. If you can accept my help, please do so, but if this is your honest shape – if you truly are the man I killed those years ago – here I stand. Hunt President Sheridan no longer. Your revenge is with me.” 

“No!” Adira limped forward but Marcus caught her around the waist. 

The looming creature emptied it's chest in a crackling roar. Sheridan flinched, his body weaker and more painful than ever. He didn't want anyone to suffer for him, but he was too weak to even shout. Anna clutched him tightly, waiting without breath as the creature raised its bladed arms and drove both points straight down into the roof that held his friends. 

Impact boomed like cannofire. Dust billowed from the blades. Sore muscles clenched in Sheridan's aching chest as the following moments dragged in eerie silence. A shiver shook through the Shadow-creature's massive body. It emitted a low moan and pulled the blades free. G'Kar stood, hand on Londo's shoulder. The two were unharmed, illuminated in the light of their two Vorlon escorts. Adira peeped a whimper and sank to her knees.

“Thank you, my old friend,” Londo muttered. The Shadow-creature leaned against the building, it's face pressed to the roof's edge and every eye closed. The posture was distinctly sapient despite the bug-like legs and shell. Londo a hand on its forehead. “You are safe now, let me guide you. Everything will be all right.”

Londo removed an earpiece and spoke to the creature. His voice was too low for Sheridan to hear, but he recognized the cadence. It was a meditation, like the one Lennier walked him through. The black creature began to glow, it's silhouette lost in a haze of white as it blurred and lost shape. The corrupted soul shrank away from Londo's hand, diminishing in girth and size until it was almost nothing. The soldiers formed a ring around it, ready to protect or defend as it took the shape of a man. The glow dimmed to nothing, revealing a dark head and black suit.

Mr. Morden fell, hunched and shaking, where the monster once stood.


	15. Constitution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finale pt 2 and epilogue

The Vorlons that escorted Londo and G'Kar through Lorien's gateway gathered their charges and delivered them from the roof to the ruined street. Locals were filtering back from their hiding spots, curious about the damage, but even more about the culprit. The armed guards formed a ring to protect Morden from any further violence as the man himself cowered in anguish and shame. 

G'Kar wasn't on the ground a second before he turned on the charm, addressing his Centauri neighbors as Londo shoved through the ring of soldiers and knelt beside the trembling Morden and put an arm around his back. Morden jumped, perhaps anticipating a blow, and buried his face in the Emperor's shoulder, overcome with sobs. 

“I'm sorry.” Morden's strangled voice whispered in Londo's discarded headset. “Anna, I didn't mean to.”

Anna's grip on Sheridan loosened as tears and uncertainty flooded her eyes. “Edward...” 

Sheridan exhaled a shaky breath and whispered in her ear. “When he spotted us in the rubble, his eyes were on you. You told me how you all counted on each other for the last twenty years. I guess he couldn't handle losing you when I got here.”

“He chased me all this way... not onlyto here, but from our apartment. He wasn't attacking it, he was already inside when he changed.”Anna's lip trembled. “Was this my fault?”

“No. You didn't ask him to do this,” Sheridan said. “Adira told me your shape changes when we're asleep. Is that how corruption works, too?”

“Yes it is,” Lennier answered. “Corruption happens when a soul is at odds with itself. Mr. Morden's heart knew his truth, but his mind convinced him another way. At some point, deep inside he believed himself a monster.”

"He believed it when he wasn't and became a four-story death machine?" Sheridan asked.

Marcus lowered his eyes. "When you aren't in your right mind you tend to over-react."

"Ed has always struggled with what part of his actions under the Shadows were his choice. His wife and daughter couldn't cope with his changes," Anna muttered. "Oh god. He must have felt so alone." 

“He's seen a lot of darkness,” Sheridan agreed. “You both have."

"I thought we were past it."

"He hasn't been healing from this as long as you have," Sheridan said. "He still needs you.”

“But John...”

“You need more healing, too.” Sheridan turned her to face him. “I know you were counting on me to make everything better, but I'm human just like everyone else. It kills me to hurt you, but my heart is with Delenn. Things can't go back to the way they were, you understand that, right?”

Her breath hitched. “I do.” 

“It doesn't mean I don't love you.” Sheridan's wounded heart ached with every beat. “Yours were some of the best years of my life. I wouldn't trade them for anything. I wouldn't be who I am without that time we spent together. Thank you for that.”

“Thank you, too,” Anna sniffed. “And for all these years spent without you. You gave me strength to keep going.”

Their lips met with warmth and sadness. The taste held a thousand memories, teleporting him through space and time to another life when they were together and all his hope was in her. Anna tried to deepen the kiss, but he resisted just enough and it changed from a kiss of passion to the soft and solemn goodbye they should have shared so long ago. 

“This isn't the end,” he whispered as they parted. “The Rim is all about second chances.I'd still like to know you.”

“You will, but not yet.” She stepped away. “I need time.”

Anna blushed beneath tears and hurried across the ruined square. The soldiers stopped her, but G'Kar waved her through and she fell to her knees beside Morden who crawled broken and weeping into her arms. 

“So this wasn't about Sheridan at all. Who would have expected...” Marcus shook his head. “This world never ceases to surprise me.”

"That is probably for the best." Lennier took on Sheridan's weight and followed Marcus and Adira from the broken building into the street. Kosh separated himself from the host of Vorlons and descended upon Anna and Morden, vanishing with them into nothing. Londo and G'Kar waited on the periphery of the dispersing crowd. Sheridan and his group limped their their direction, only for G'Kar direct up the street. The two rushed away from them into the rubble. 

Marcus frowned. “Where are they going?”

“The house!” Adira seized him. "Carry me."

Marcus lifted her by knees and shoulders and doubled their speed. Sheridan fought to keep up, the rollercoaster of injury and emotion quickly descending to exhaustion. Lennier assumed more of his burden and caught up to Marcus as they reached the remains of the once-great Centauri mansion. Londo and G'Kar stood within the ruin of their home in apparent shock. Londo cupped his hands on either side of his mouth. “Adira!?” 

“Here!” She dropped from Marcus's arms, her limp improving as she neared her husband. Londo swept her up, his face buried in her shoulder. She pressed their cheeks together with a hand on the back of his head. 

Sheridan watched them in a wash of enlightened awe. It must have been a recreation of the day Londo died; him dressed as an emperor with a young Londo's face, her holding him close full of reassurance and news. They leaned on each other near to collapsing in relief and love. Sheridan could see himself in such an embrace in the future when Delenn at long last returned to him and they'd hold each other again. Reunion with Delenn felt more real in that moment than any before it. There was no doubt; just as Delenn's love steadied him in his moment of pain, his love for her could bridge the gap between life and death. It would find her when she needed him, because it was part of his truest self. Not a crutch, or a delusion. Pure and bright as any star.

“My darling,” Adira admired her emperor at arm's length. “I am so proud. You were absolutely marvelous!”

He glanced to her bloody ankle. “Are you all right?”

“Yes of course! John saved me!” Adira smiled back at Sheridan over her shoulder. "The house fell and he risked his life to pull me out."

“Then I owe him a tremendous debt." 

Londo's eyes were sunken and red-rimmed, but the gratitude Sheridan saw there was like looking in a mirror. He eased off Lennier's shoulder and bowed his head with one hand on his heart. “There's no debt. It's how friends are.”

Londo's weariness eased into a smile. "Thank you, John.”

“You're welcome, Ambassador.”

“By G'Quan.” G'Kar hurried to Sheridan. “You're bloodied. What happened?”

“He was wounded by Mr. Morden,” Lennier said. “As you can see, we recovered him.”

“Thank the stars for that.” G'Kar shook his head. “You certainly know how to keep a welcome party going, Mr. President. They'll be talking about this one for eons to come.”

Sheridan cringed despite the humor. “I'm sorry about your house.”

“Bah,” G'Kar dismissed the wreck. “Things can be replaced but the souls of our loved ones cannot. We would risk everything to prevent such tragedy.” 

“Yes, so we saw.” Sheridan said. "That was awful close."

“I had handled,” G'Kar assured. “We'd never let you get killed twice in the same week! And if you were worried about Mollari just now, it was important that he believe it in the moment but I'd never let my partner die right in front of me. We have a reputation -- If death will take one of us, it will take both of us, and I was determined it would take none.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Sheridan said. He gestured to include Marcus and Lennier in the sentiment. “I can't thank you all enough for what you've done for me since I got here. It's been quite a ride, I don't know how I'd do it without you.”

"And you'll never have to," Marcus said. "Familis like ours aught to stick together.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Lorien's voice preceded him as white gateway opened in their midst. The patriarch exited, followed by Valen and a floating Vorlon.

"Kosh," Sheridan said. "How's Anna?"

"Home," he answered. "Resting."

"Everything will be fine," Lorien said. “The was no loss of life. Repairs to the city are already under way. Good work, everyone. You make me very proud.”

“We apologize for not stopping Mr. Morden earlier than we did.” Lennier triangled his hands with a bow. “You were forced to use your last resort. That is our failure.”

“Nonsense. You and Marcus risked life and limb to protect our friend Sheridan. If whole armies could not stop him, best not to blame yourself.”

A smile tugged at Lennier's penitent expression. Marcus jabbed an elbow in Lennier's ribs as he straightened back up. 

“In fact, today marks a shift in the Universe's understanding,” Lorien continued. “John, your arrival reminds us all the impact you and your friends made on the ripples of time. You are but the advance guard... more souls are coming with war and reform in their hearts. This is why the Universe has granted a request of mine. Where, John Sheridan, would you say is your home?”

He looked to his companions – Centauri, Narn, Minbari, Earther, Vorlon – there were regions and neighborhoods for all of these, but no one was where he truly belonged. The answer came to him clearly, although he knew it impossible. Still, the Rim was all about truth, after all. “Babylon 5.”

“I had a feeling you'd say that.”

Lorien waved his hand and the rubble-strewn road split down the middle with a stripe of white light. The ground unfolded like an accordion, stretching away from them into impossible space, warping the geography between the Centauri neighborhood and surrounding houses to form a brand new section of town. Structures rose from the white field – gunmetal gray with blues and greens in the shapes of bulkheads and archways. Staircases branched to catwalks lit with neon lights and colored panels. There was a tram rail, a shopping area, a park like hydroponics with a zen garden that made Sheridan's heart skip. 

He gasped. “A Babylon 5 neighborhood? Are you serious?”

“Serious as the grave,” Lorien chuckled. “Its not quite five miles long yet, but it will grow with time. You are not the only one who considers Babylon 5 their real home. As more move in, the truer and more authentic it will become. You see, the gift I was granted was somewhere that all my friends could live together in peace. It begins here with you and I. What kind of place would you like?”

“Place?”

“I hope you didn't expect to move into your captain's quarters!” Lorien said. “It can be any shape or size you like. Is there a house you miss from childhood? A place you feel comfortable? Somewhere you've always dreamed of being? Whatever you like.”

“Honestly, I don't really care what it is.” Sheridan's chest started throbbing again. “All I want is somewhere to wait for Delenn. A place she'll like when she gets here.”

“A very honest request.”

Lorien waved his hand and one of the industrial-looking buildings began to change into a tall, narrow town house – half his father's farm, half the blue crystal of Minbar – with an entrance reminiscent of the sliding doorways of B5. Sheridan knew it was his as surely as he knew himself. "Incredible."

“It's bigger on the inside, of course,” Lorien said. “And not yet furnished, although I have a feeling you'll know what to put where.” 

“It's perfect.” Sheridan's joy dimmed with a glance at his friends, half wounded and half homeless in the pursuit of his safety. “What about the others?”

“There is room for them, too, but first it's their choice.” Lorien swept his robe as he turned. “I know you all have established homes, what do you say? Care to join us?”

“I would like to.” Lennier stepped forward. “Something humble.”

“Like the temple you were raised in?” Lorien agreed. He moved his hand again and another building changed shape. It was low and simple, like many others Sheridan knew from Minbar. Lennier seemed delighted.

“I want one too,” Marcus said. “Can William come?”

“Of course he can!” 

“I'll have to talk to Sakai, but I'm pretty sure we're on board.” Valen cracked a smile. “It'll be nice to be back on Babylon 5.”

“And what about the three of you?” Lorien addressed Londo, Adira, and G'Kar. "A royal palace and a Narn plantation?” 

Londo and Adira shared a soft look and the emperor appealed to the third. “G'Kar?”

The Narn beamed, head high. “I want it exactly as it was.”

"And so you shall have it."

The stones about them vanished in light and reassembled their familiar state. Lighted flowers grew and bloomed about three stories worth of windows. G'Kar heaved an approving laugh and gave Londo a shove the emperor returned with a fanged smile.

“One last thing,” Lorien interrupted. “Sheridan. You exhibited recklessness and bravery today the likes of which I have seen in few others... and most of those stand around you. Would you care to join our ranks in the Army of Light?”

“Join?” Sheridan snorted. “Like there was any doubt -- I'm already wearing the uniform!”

“And so you are,” Lorien canted his head. “Welcome home, John. May it be all you expected and more.”

-_-_- Epilogue -_-_-

Sheridan woke from the most therapeutic sleep he could remember. The bed was made of pine. The mattress was not too soft. Sunlight streamed through an open window on the far wall. He could see across a small alley to a house that could have been teleported straight off of Arisia III. It was almost noon, he'd slept in, but he was still recovering from his chest wound. Sheridan pried himself up from the covers and limped to his dresser.

He was healing fast. Lennier said a complete physical ruination such as his left a bruise on the psyche, but he would be completely painless in just a few days. It was tough feeling so stiff, but it made the events feel real and valuable. Besides, a blade the size of a surf board bisected his torso and he'd be better in a few days; it wasn't so bad. 

A portrait of Delenn hung near the mirror – one taken on Earth the day before they were married. It was a photo he treasured, although she didn't care for it much. It made her look too mischievous. When she arrived she could change it, but for now it reminded him of the thrill of anticipation. He kissed his fingers and touched them to her lips on his way to wash up. 

His closet was filled with the staples he remembered most from his life. He picked something casual – no need for uniforms today. His beard was back again, less gray than it once was. Maybe someday he'd figure out what made it pop on and off.

He passed beneath a crystal archway, through a living room filled with maps and landscapes, and out a sliding to the foyer and city street beyond. There were more houses today than there were yesterday – more people moving in from all over the Rim. He spotted a narrow Drazi building that had grown up over night. It didn't look exactly like Babylon 5, perhaps, but it felt like it. The Zocalo sign was glowing in the “Red Sector” shopping district at the end of the block. Merchants and restaurant owners returned by the dozens, including a couple new ones fulfilling dreams they never could while alive. Book Universe was back, as was Finagle's. Kat was already tending bar at the new Eclipse Cafe and couldn't stop talking about how much she missed it. Sheridan and Londo visited her the first night she opened and she even remembered his usual from fifteen years ago. Lorien was right about people considering Babylon 5 their home. 

Residents and tourists wandered the catwalks for a better look at the giant model of Babylon 5 floating above. Sheridan heard there was a museum opening inside it, although he wasn't sure he wanted to know what would be on display. How many pictures of him would be there? And all of his friends. Why look at artifacts of his own history when there was so much else to explore?

Londo and G'kar were arguing about something in the courtyard near their place. G'Kar'd moved his entrance from the back to the front for better access to the main road. It gave the mansion an oddly appropriate mish-mash feeling. Sheridan checked the time on his holographic wrist unit and wandered toward their voices. “Good morning, fellas.”

“Good morning, John.” G'Kar nodded with an arm full of papers. “You're here just in time. Tell his blowhard about his moronic sense of prose and bad taste.”

“Bad taste? You wrote it in a bout of sleep deprivation.”

“I spent three days recreating it from memory!”

“Three days better spent losing debates in McNair's bar.”

"Hold on," Sheridan said. “Is this this same opus you wrote the night of my welcome party? You've been rewriting it for three days?”

“I keep remembering new lines," he grinned. "You can't force a muse, Captain.”

“No I suppose not.”

“Speaking of, you must come to my reading.” G'Kar peeled a page off the pile on his arm. “G'Quan and I are collaborating on a new live performance. He's written five more books since he died. Genius. And he's quite fond of my lines as well, if you can believe that. This land is full of miracles.”

“And tragedies." Londo shook a similar stack of papers. “If you insist on reading this jumble, it needs another draft. Allow me to look it over more thoroughly. I can provide notes.”

“Not on your life!”

“John!” Marcus trotted up the street with William behind. “Ready for lunch?”

“You bet I am!”

“Great, I'm starved." William saluted to the Narn and Centauri. "Pardon us, gents.” 

"Enjoy," G'Kar said. "I will see you this evening!"

Sheridan nodded. "I promise you will!"

William kept talking as the three men marched away. He was so like Marcus, yet somehow more theatrical if it was possible. He wagged a finger. “Marcus insisted we stay local, but if you don't mind the adventure, I've got a fantastic little cafe I love back in the Earther neighborhood. What do you say?”

“I'll go anywhere you lead me.”

“To the Vorlon, then!”

Kosh hovered in air below the hanging model of the station. He descended to meet them. “Yes?”

“We're off to visit the Earthers if you don't mind,” William answered. “A Vorlon named Jamesh.”

“As you wish.” Kosh paused with a long look at Sheridan. “Doing well?”

“Doing very well.” He smiled back. “Thank you for asking.”

Light entered the three travelers, filling their bodies with warmth. Sheridan closed his eyes and let the white light carry them off to new adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins! Thus ends the introduction of my Beyond the Rim AU. This AU will become a setting for many future adventures, and is open for anyone who'd like to write in the world. I did my best to establish the rules of the world, but spinoffs and AUs of the AU are all welcome. Your ship not represented? Write it! You think Sheridan would arrive here a different way? Write it, too! If there's participation I may open a collection for all of them, but for now you're all equipped to read my series as it goes on.


End file.
